The Epic tale of Emma Morgan
by 44RedFeather44
Summary: No one said surviving a Zombie apocalypse would be easy. Thirty two year old Emma Morgan has been alone for eight months, battling corpses, struggling to survive and searching for her brother. So what happens when she unexpectedly meets a new group of people? Will she join them, and live to fight another day? Eventual Daryl/OC
1. Prologue

"Run!"

My heart hammered in my chest as I took off sprinting into the woods. It was dark, the outline of trees barely visible in my escape.

I could hear their screams.

My friends, they were dying. But I had to keep running, I promised my father I would.

Images of rotting flesh came to mind as my body weaved in and out of the shadows, scratching against branches and shrubs.

They killed my father. My brother was missing.

But I couldn't think about them now. I had to run, I had to survive. I had to escape the clutches of the un-dead, or _corpses_ as the people in camp had called them.

They were deadly, one bite, one scratch and you would become one of them–a mindless zombie craving human flesh.

The sight of a corpse was horrifying.

I'd almost forgotten the dreadful nightmares they had caused only months ago, as they savagely ripped into my mother's flesh and fed. My heart clenched.

Up ahead, the woods were beginning to thin and I spied a highway in the distance. My body instantly propelled forward, adrenaline building with fear.

When I made it to the road safely, I catching my breath as my heart beat furiously under my shirt.

My nightmares had suddenly become a reality.

I couldn't help as my mind thought back to the dreadful scene of corpses invading our camp. Men, women and children had been murdered by savage beasts. They had killed my father, who died protecting others. A flash of images rushed to the forefront of my mind, putrid teeth gnawing into his side, and I immediately wavered at the thought, feeling faint. The tears burst uncontrollably down my face, staining my cheeks.

"_Daddy_," I choked, falling to my knees slowly. My dad was dead, my brother was gone, and I was alone.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys, so this is my first attempt at a Walking Dead fan fiction. I have recently become a major fan, so of course I had to do my own version. **

**A little about this story, yes it follows somewhat, the same story line as the TV show, but it ventures off slightly into my own imagination - so bare with me. Time period is nearing the beginning of the third season, but I have changed a lot of things around, including character deaths and backgrounds, just to make things a little more interesting.**

**This story begins with a little prologue, that's why it's so short. I thought it important to add the life changing moment of our main protagonist so that you can all see the difference in her in the next couple of chapters. Speaking of the next chapter, it's going to take place eight months after this prologue... so stay tuned and I hope you enjoy the story.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 1

The noises woke me.

Snarls and groans from behind the large oak door echoed into the small, make-shift room. With eyes tightly sealed, I savoured the last few moments of peaceful sleep.

But wasteful dreams no longer suspended the inevitability of this new world.

Slowly, I hoisted my body upright, wincing at the prickling sensation in my neck. It had been three weeks of harsh living; an act my slight frame struggled greatly with. _Oh how I craved for the softness of a mattress_. The sounds of corpses echoed through the room once more, an immediate reminder of my current dilemma. Yawning, I jumped to my feet and reached for the bloodied axe beside me, clicking my neck either side in preparation for what needed to be done.

It was an odd choice of weapon some might say, especially when compared with how ridiculous I looked holding it (_the woes of being a lanky twig_), but there was no denying skill – and skill with an axe, was what I had.

Quietly, I approached the door, trying to determine how many corpses were behind it. Their rotting stench wafted in with cries of hunger and I paused to swallow back the bile that had risen in my throat. Seeing no other option but to open the door itself and kill the group of corpses, I quickly readied my axe and counted to three.

When I reached the third 'Mississippi' I yanked the door wide and slammed my axe into the first corpse. There were only three of them, but it didn't slow me. I swiftly dispatched the last two with a whirl of my axe and kicked my way over the mound of bodies, searching for other corpses. The hallway was narrow, so even if a group attacked I would be able to take them down one by one. Luckily, I was saved the hassle as no other corpses approached.

It wasn't even seven in the morning and already I had killed three corpses, _what would momma say_? I smirked at the thought of my frail mother witnessing my current state, picturing the look of outrage in her eyes. There had been several occasions in the past, before the outbreak, where I had earned the legendary scowl of hers, and nine out of ten times my irresponsible self had deserved them.

I wavered at the memory, pausing mid-stride.

It had been the first time in months since I had thought about them, my family. The memory of my mother's face brought with it the familiar pain and longing enclosing my chest. I shut my eyes, leaning against the wall of the narrow corridor. Times like these I hated most; when the agonizing recollection of memories suddenly dawned on me with no chance of escape.

My mother was dead now. She had been the first of my family to die when the outbreak occurred. It had happened so suddenly. One moment I was at home with my family, the next, a group of corpses came straggling down the street. At first I thought it was a joke, some prank the local kids were playing on the neighbourhood, but then I saw their faces, I knew something was wrong. There had been many deaths that night, including my mother's. It was a memory I hated reliving.

Sighing heavily, I shook my head to be rid of the past and got to work on disposing the slain corpses. I dragged their bodies to the end of the hallway, dumping them over the edge of the railing to the pile of corpses gathered on the first floor – _my efforts over the past three weeks_. The smell usually masked my own scent, but there was always the occasional corpse that managed to sneak in through my defences. I dusted my hands off, considering where the weak spots could possibly be located.

When first arriving in the small town, I had been uncertain on whether to stay or leave. After scouring the streets and finding little corpses however, I decided on holding out. It was the first decent place I had come across since my home in New Orleans. As days passed I'd managed to clear the building of all corpses. There had been some struggles along the way, and I knew there were still weak spots within that needed to be unveiled, but for now, the little offices would hold.

I was _alone_ after all, and no matter how fearless I claimed to be, I was no superhero.

Sashaying down the hall, I swept into the small office that had been my residence for the past few weeks, before bolting the door behind me. Making a meal out of canned fruit, I planned for the day ahead.

Normally I would stay in the safe confines of the office/room, only straying as far as the foyer below to make sure the place was still protected. _There was no need to alert corpses on my location_. But with the rush of adrenaline coursing through me from the recent kills, I decided on a nearby supply run.

The bulletin board in front of me showed a detailed map of the small town. I had only accomplished searching through three of the buildings since my arrival, of the two, only one store proved helpful with rows of medical supplies inside. I remembered it being a thoroughly good day as I had also found a bottle of Jack Daniels in the mess.

Studying the map with a thoughtful pout I decided to hit the small hardware store at the end of Main Street. Although my trusty axe had seen its fair share of corpse killing, I still needed to re-supply for the big journey to Savannah.

It was then however, while carelessly plunging a tinned peach into my mouth, that I heard them.

_People. _

I tensed, choking slightly on the piece of fruit still lodged in the back of my throat, as the distinct sound of car engines hummed from the window behind me. My father had gone out of his way to teach me many things as a kid, and one that I proudly used to my advantage since the outbreak, was my heightened senses. Falling to the ground and fearing the worst, I approached the window cautiously.

The curtains were open, letting in blaring light. It was too late to close them now; however the error on my part gave me the advantage of spying on the newcomers below. Sure enough, as soon as I peered through the window a silver Hyundai rolled to a stop just outside the building. Moments later the loud hum of a motorbike pulled up beside it. I swallowed back curses as I eyed the cyclist. He didn't look particularly threatening killing the engine of his chopper. But as he threw his leg over the side of his bike and removed the crossbow slung over his shoulder, aiming high, I could see the danger there. Seconds later the doors of the Hyundai opened. They were young, perhaps in their early twenties, one Asian man with a blue baseball cap covering most of his face and the other, a Caucasian woman with a mess of brown curls.

"Interesting turn of events," I muttered, narrowing my eyes.

Their movements were quick as they scoured the streets on high alert, incorporating a planned and precise system, almost as if they had done it countless times. There wasn't much in the way of weapons, the biker's heavy crossbow was the most prominent, but the other two looked comfortable with their knives. It also didn't look like they had many supplies in their vehicle, a sign that they were probably on a supply run for their camp.

The threesome disappeared from view as they cautiously continued down the street, leaving their vehicles behind.

Disregarding the bike immediately, _seeing as I didn't really know how to drive one anyway, _I couldn't shake the sudden temptation of the silver Hyundai below. A car in good condition was hard to come by in post-apocalyptic days, and I knew it could prove useful when considering my long journey to Savannah. I checked every facet from my perch above, revelling in the flow of ideas that popped into my mind. _But could I really steal somebody's car_? No matter how awful this world had become, it just wouldn't feel right.

I continued my staring competition with the silver vehicle, arguing a pointless battle with myself, when a figure suddenly trampled into view. I ducked instinctively, peering cautiously over the edge of the window. The woman from before desperately limped towards the silver vehicle, looking a picture of defeat as her two comrades struggled behind.

My brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of them, until the biker suddenly turned, firing an arrow at the head of a corpse reaching for him. I scowled at the scene below, watching the bloody massacre unfold as more corpses appeared and the threesome fought for their lives. They were clearly outnumbered and any moment would die cruel deaths.

My hand twitched at my side.

I knew nothing of these people, who they were, where they were from, nor did I know how dangerous they could potentially be. Only moments before I had been contemplating whether to steal their car or not, so I didn't understand the sudden urge to help. _I couldn't just watch and let them die._

Without another thought I grabbed my bloodied axe from the desk beside me and threw open the door, blasting down the narrow corridor at record speed. Taking the stairs two at a time, I bounded towards the glass doors in the foyer and pried the make-shift lock away. The doors swung wide and the heat of battle hit me. I slaughtered the first corpse without blinking, making my way towards the woman. Three corpses approached her and I quickly threw the knife from my pocket at the closest and swung my axe hard, nailing the other two in the skull.

"IN HERE!" I yelled as I yanked my axe out of the two corpse's heads, swinging high into another who staggered forward. Startled human faces gazed back at me, but I did not wait for their response, running back into the safety of the foyer instead.

No sooner had I passed through the glass doors did the woman follow me with her two comrades in tow. I slammed the door shut after them grabbing my make-shift lock and reattaching it as several corpses pressed eagerly against the glass doors. When the lock clicked firmly into place I sighed, leaning back against the lock in a moment of relief.

Then I realised my new company.

"Who the hell're you?" The apparent leader of the group stepped forward, his crossbow raised a little too dangerously for my liking. I stared back at him with arched brows – _glad to see he appreciated my help_.

"A saving grace it seems," I countered sarcastically, folding my arms. The man narrowed his eyes readying a smart retort of his own no doubt, but it was the woman who replied, a kind smile on her face.

"Thank you," she drawled, body covered in blood and dirt. An air of realness shone through her green eyes as she smiled up at me. It was a nice change from the rotting corpses that had been keeping my company in recent weeks. I nodded once in her direction, glad that my services were appreciated by someone.

The Asian boy, who had been leaning against the opposite wall trying to catch his breath, stepped in front of the girl then, a guarded look on his face. He muttered some half-hearted attempt of gratitude and looked back at the green-eyed woman, apparently not liking her approach.

The other man didn't even bother expressing his thanks. His crossbow still aimed high, stance unsettled. I narrowed my eyes at him, wanting nothing more than to reach across the room and grab my axe.

_A pissing contest was in order._

"Daryl," the woman suddenly realised her comrade's position and shoved the Asian boy to the side. "She _saved_ our lives, lower your weapon." Her face was distraught, but the man remained firm, ignoring her pleas.

"Jus' wonderin' why this _lil' girl _heresaved our lives," he began with a thick southern drawl. I quietly fumed, shuffling on my feet to hide the anger brewing.

_I'll show him 'lil' girl'._

"What does it matter, she saved our lives." The woman practically screamed. I flinched as the sound only aggravated the group of corpses behind me. The others seemed to notice my unease and all turned expectantly, as if I were a rotting corpse myself.

"What's your name?" The Asian boy spoke first, interrupting the glaring contest between myself and the man named Daryl. I slowly turned towards the boy and frowned.

"You first."

He didn't seem to like my response, but I didn't care. I was too busy eyeing the arrow pointed at my head. The girl rolled her eyes at the brown-haired man and suddenly moved so that her body was positioned between me and him. He didn't take too kindly to the unexpected development and neither did the Asian boy, but one threatening look from the woman, halted their protests.

"She's not going to hurt us," the woman cried, exasperated with the man in front of her. I was a little surprised by her trusting outburst, seeing as I hardly knew the girl, but there was no denying the glimmer of doubt in her stance.

Obviously I wasn't _that_ trust worthy_._

When the man still did not lower his weapon the woman stepped right in front of him, inches away from his weapon. "For Christ's sake Daryl, lower your weapon or I'll do it for you."

The man grunted as he exchanged an uncertain look with the Asian boy. A moment later he lowered his weapon slowly.

Accomplishing her comrades cooperation the girl turned back to face me with her signature sweetheart-smile. "I'm Maggie Greene," her eyes twinkled. "This is Glenn," she pointed to the Asian boy. "And _this_ is Daryl." The latter grunted, scratching his chin as he raked his eyes up and down by body in an egotistical fashion.

I scoffed in return, glancing away before I did something I'd regret. Maggie gazed eagerly up at me, her signature smile lingering.

It was one thing to risk your life saving a group, and another to tell them personal information. Both instances, only a fool would consider doing. The way I saw it I had two options. Either I could tell them who I was, drop my guard slightly and risk them turning on me later. Or I could show them the back exit and have them be on their merry way, without either side losing a thing. I frowned at my observations, glancing around the room. It was times like these where my father's wisdom would have come in handy. But I had to make the decision for myself now. _A fool it was._

"Emma," I muttered. "Emma Morgan."

The others seemed to relax slightly glancing about the room cautiously, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. _Maybe I didn't need my father's advice after all. _

"Been busy?" The Asian boy suddenly asked and I looked over at him with a frown. He stared uncomfortably at the mound of corpses piled high in the corner of the foyer. The other two glanced over then and I had to hide a smile at their surprise. It seemed they had underestimated me, _as most people did_.

I nodded in the direction of the boy and noticed his hand instinctively reach for his knife, though he didn't draw it.

_He's fortunate_, I thought. _Things would have gotten really interesting otherwise. _Noting my firm glare, the boy wordlessly dropped his hand and looked away.

"There's got to be about twenty bodies there," Maggie gasped, curving my attention. I shrugged, looking over at her and was surprised to see the admiring impression that it left. Beside her the 'arrow-man' grumbled, which I suspected was covering a jeer and narrowed my eyes at him. _What was his problem?_

Despite seeming pretty badass with his crossbow, I had him figured as a typical 'all-mouth no-brains' redneck. He was taller than me by a whole head, with shaggy hair that seemed to be the only clean thing about him. From where I stood I could clearly see the callous skin which strangely fit his whole 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' attitude. His constant frown was what pissed me off the most. It shadowed his face with one emotion, making it near impossible to guess what he was thinking, and people like that I considered a threat.

The Asian boy, Glenn, looked almost the exact opposite in comparison. Where the redneck was all broad shoulders and hard eyes, almost reminiscent of a hunter, Glenn was awkward and gangly. Though his stoic stance stunned me at first, I put that down to the severity of this new world and how it might have changed him emotionally. He had dark, cropped hair and even darker eyes. I was surprised though, not by his physical presence, or by his possible emotional turmoil, but by the fact that I had finally found someone even skinnier than me. I smiled inwardly at this triumph.

Of the three Maggie was perhaps the person I was amazed to find I instantly liked. She was definitely strong in her own way, but there was also a calming gentleness about her. Almost as if she hadn't experienced the world like the rest of us had. But then as I studied her green eyes I could see pain there too, pain I knew all too well. She was shorter than me, but only by a bit. I was surprised at the familiarity that accompanied her, but I couldn't pin exactly who she reminded me of. It was then, while studying how dishevelled the slight girl appeared, that I noticed Maggie's leg, a shard of glass painfully sticking out of it.

I gestured towards the wound with a frown. "I have something for that."

She followed my line of sight and blanched at the sight of blood trickling, the Asian boy beside her equally as surprised. I quickly moved across the foyer to where my discarded axe lay. Daryl's weapon rose in warning, but I ignored him and paced towards the stairway, not minding their questioning stares. When I reached the top and glanced back, I wasn't surprised to see their cautious stances still huddled together in contemplation.

"Are you coming?" I challenged, directing the question to them all, but allowing my eyes to scornfully linger on the man named Daryl.

_Let the pissing competition begin. _

He grunted once in reply and after a moment of hesitation, looking over Maggie's wound, followed me carefully up the stairs.

The room was smaller with four bodies packed into it. I motioned for Glenn to place Maggie on the sofa and quickly gathered medical supplies in the corner cupboards, as the others took their seats, Daryl being the only one to stand in the doorway.

"You alone?" He grumbled, eyes darting about with uncertainty. I rolled my own turning once I had everything I needed and made a face–_does it look like anyone else is here?_

He narrowed his eyes slightly and turned away.

The wound was deeper than I had anticipated, but was fortunately salvageable. I quickly got to work cleaning around the shard of glass, ignoring the suspicious gazes of my audience.

"You got lucky," I muttered after a while. Maggie smiled lightly as I thoroughly cleaned around the wound. "Could have lost a perfectly good leg." I teased, a smile forming on my lips. The Asian boy beside her glared, but remained silent. I frowned in return, looking away from him and focusing on the task at hand.

Pulling gently on the piece of glass I realised it hadn't gone as deep as expected, so after tugging once, then twice the glass fragment was out. Maggie winced in pain grasping the boy's hand for support. I quickly placed a cloth over the wound, applying pressure, and waited for the bleeding to stop.

"Pretty confident in what you're doing." Glenn stated, still watching my every move. I looked up at him and nodded.

"My mother was a nurse. She taught me a few things before the outbreak." I removed my hand and wiped the blood away, careful not to cause too much discomfort. When it was clear the bleeding had settled slightly I found some bandages in the bottom of the bag of supplies and began unravelling the white material.

"Where are you from?" Maggie suddenly asked wincing as I gently placed the bandage over her wound. I glanced up at the girl through my mane of brown hair and found her brilliant smile had reappeared. There was a moment of uncertainty as I noticed the others lean in, also eager to know who exactly the lanky girl that had saved them, was.

"New Orleans," I replied without blinking. My audience gasped, stunned no doubt, to hear the infection had spread past Georgia. Maggie exchanged a look of surprise at her two comrades, but winced when I settled her leg on a chair for her to elevate.

"Pretty long way from home," the man behind me grumbled. I had almost forgotten he was in the room. Turning in search of some pain killers, I met his levelled gaze. He studied me carefully, like a hunter in the night stalking its prey, and gripped his weapon closer. I decided then that I did not trust the man, and made a mental note to be wary around him.

"Yeah well, it's overrun with corpses now, so I couldn't exactly stay."

He grunted once, but didn't further his assessment.

"Corpses?" The Asian boy spoke up from the sofa, smiling softly. "We call them walkers."

I paused in my search and registered the new information. _Suppose it was fitting._

Finding the pain killers at last, I turned sharply and grabbed a bottle of water on my way over to Maggie's barely conscious form.

"Take these," I whispered, crouching down in front of her. The girl did as I commanded with a small smile, and swallowed the medicine as she settled back into the sofa.

"You seem to have a lot of medical supplies," the Asian boy wondered curiously, though I saw no malice in his eyes. I nodded up at him before standing.

"The pharmacy was the first store I cleared," I sighed. "No point trying to survive, if you get hurt and can't fix it." The rest of the room nodded in agreement.

Silence commenced as the girl dozed in an out of consciousness.

I felt strangely ill at ease for the first time in a long time. I hadn't been in the company of another living soul for over four months, the last time being with a man and his son. Daryl and Glen watched me, no doubt feeling just as uncomfortable, but refrained from stating so. Deciding that nothing could be done to lighten the situation, and checking that Maggie was okay, I walked over to the window and glanced down at the ten or so corpses below.

"There's still too many of them for you to leave now." I turned back to face the two men, both guarded in their stares. "You might have to wait it out."

Glenn and Daryl exchanged a look before nodding at me.

"Thank you," the Asian boy rested his arm over Maggie, actually sounding gracious in his appreciation.

I wasn't going to lie; being with these newcomers definitely scared me. Although they seemed decent enough, especially the girl, it didn't mean that I trusted them anymore than I could throw them. Eight months alone had taught me that, being alert was the most important key in survival. I used to be a foolish girl, someone who depended on others to keep me safe, but I was wrong to trust in that. If you couldn't survive alone, you wouldn't survive at all.

Swallowing my fears, I glanced over at the two men across from me. If I wanted to know more about them, I had to be just as trusting.

"So where are y'all from?" I began.

Glenn turned to me first, his arm wrapped around Maggie, and I could see the inner thoughts as he processed something before answering. After a few moments he finally opened his mouth to answer.

"Atlanta," he studied me carefully, probably trying to determine where I was coming from. When I only nodded he seemed to relax, though the man in the doorway shuffled slightly. His back was turned to us, but I knew he was listening.

"So it's just you three then. On the road?" I asked, not quite hiding the fact that my brows rose curiously. Conversation had been dull in the last three weeks, so I wasn't surprised to find that talking with the newcomers felt rather good.

Glenn opened his mouth to respond, but the 'arrow-man' suddenly turned and fired him with a warning glare. Moments later the scowl fixed on me.

"Listen girl. Don't take this the wrong way but we don' know ya," he drawled. I refrained from rolling my eyes; _did he think I was asking questions just to kill time_? "And I ain't bout' to tell ya bout' us till we know _more_ bout' you!"

I stared back at him. It was an easy resolve, telling them some harmless information about myself and then learning more about them. But with the growing tension in the room I decided against it. They didn't need to know about me anymore than I needed to know about them.

"Then it's settled," I glanced between both men. "We keep to ourselves, wait for the corpses to clear and then you can all be on your way."

Glenn and Daryl stared at me not expecting the turn of events, but it was the latter who answered stepping forward. "Fine by me." He mumbled with his signature-frown.

Glenn however did not share in the man's opinion. "Daryl she was medical supplies," he jumped from the sofa and turned to me eagerly. "We_ need_ them," his stance wavered and I could see the desperation in his eyes. It took me by surprise and I glanced over at the cupboards stocked full of medical provisions. There was enough to last me an entire life time, a value I couldn't just let go. I turned back to the boy, but swallowed my initial retort. He truly looked worried.

Without a backwards glance I turned sharply on my heel, grabbed one of the many bags I had salvaged earlier and began loading the bag with an assortment of contents, leaving only enough for myself to survive on modestly. _I had truly become the fool today._

"Here," I shoved the bag in Glenn's direction once I had finished stuffing it. Both men looked to me with stunned expressions, neither one understanding my rash actions. I ignored their looks of total confusion and made my way over to the window. With any luck the corpses would have lost interest and the group could leave. And then everything would go back to the steady routine I was used to. It had been two hours, so the chances of me being right were very high.

But of course, I was wrong.

Thirty or so rotting corpses still hung about the cars, with no perceivable way around them. I sighed turning back to the others who still remained grasping the bag of provisions. _Had they not seen a bag of medical supplies before?_

"What?" I stared at them, unblinking.

Daryl being Daryl recovered first and frowned down at me. "Why ya helpin' us?"

His comment caught me off guard, not because I hadn't expected it, but because of the spite in every word. My hand itched at my side and I reached for my axe. Maggie had come to just in time to hear Daryl's malicious remark and she gasped at the man, looking to Glenn for answers. The boy was preoccupied however, urging Daryl to back off.

I stared at the man across from me, refraining from rolling my eyes. I'd met hundreds of guys exactly like him. Maybe not as dangerous with a weapon, but arrogant just the same. He was rude, conceited, and stubborn as hell. Someone that needed to be put in his place. Pushing off the wall beside the window, I took the two steps into the centre of the room, gripping my axe firmly.

"Take them or don't. But believe me when I tell you," I growled and raised my axe only slightly, grasping the metal wedge and pointing its wooden tip at the man across from me. "As soon as those corpses are gone, you're all out of here." My voice was daunting, a fierce harshness that had developed over my time alone. It actually frightened me a little, but I would never admit it.

The stoic man only stared back, tension rising in the room as I met his scowl squarely. One wrong move and I'd kill him.

"Daryl back off," Maggie's voice echoed weakly through the room. I held the man's glare a moment longer before turning to her on the sofa. She was preparing to stand, and I fought the urge to help her.

_Stop helping them_, I yelled inwardly.

The brown haired girl staggered forward, eyes blazing. "This is her place we're in. So let's respect her wishes." The sight brought an image of my mother to mind and I couldn't help but smile. She suddenly turned to me and tried for her sweetheart-smile, but it faltered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I whispered, feeling the loathing fire lessen at her endearing attempt at peace. _The brown haired girl reminded me of my mother_, all heart, no nonsense. I smiled and looked away; feeling the familiar hurt, tighten across the expanse of my chest.

I glanced at the two men, ignoring the growing pain. "You're going to need a plan," I mumbled. "Still too many corpses out there to kill" My mind prickled as I paced back to the window, surprised when Glenn followed silently and gazed out over the street with me.

"We _could_ use a hand." He stressed his view, but his eyes were fixed on Daryl behind him. _So they wanted my help, huh?_ I studied the street below, ignoring the heated glare on me, and tried piecing together a plan. An idea came to mind.

"A distraction," I muttered meeting the gaze of the boy beside me. He seemed to process my words thoughtfully before nodding. When he opened his mouth to no doubt ask what I was thinking, I quickly paced from the room, the others hot on my heels.

"Wait in the foyer. I'll create the distraction." Were my only words.

Glen and Daryl carried Maggie down the hall, their eyes burning into me as I ran down the right corridor and burst into the first room on the right.

_Soon enough they'll be fucking gone_, I smiled wrenching the door open.

The room was a replica of the office I was currently occupying. Because I had cleared the building before I knew exactly where everything was and that each office had a window overlooking Main Street. I swept towards the window and peered out over the street. The corpses were still grouped around the foyer entrance, a few yards away. I glanced back into the room, searching until my eyes rested on the wooden desk chair in front of me.

Opening the window wide I counted to lucky number three and casted the chair downwards. I held my breath waiting, before the corpses began staggering towards the sound and I grinned in triumph.

Sprinting out of the room and towards the others I found them hiding in a corner of the foyer, faces stunned at the retreating numbers. Only three corpses remained directly outside the doors.

"Get moving," I hissed and quickly untied the make-shift lock. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the threesome were ready, whereby Glenn and Maggie nodded once and Daryl joined me, his crossbow ready, at the doors.

Rotting flesh lunged forward, but Daryl and I took them down easily. His arrow connected with the first corpse on his right and my axe took care of the two on the left. A path was cleared and we advanced, Glenn and Maggie hot on our heels. I took down two more corpses and the vehicle came into sight.

Opening the nearest door, I ambled over and helped Maggie climb in while Glenn turned to Daryl's side and focused on the advancing corpses. Maggie's green eyes squinted in relief, and I only nodded when she thanked me.

Turning, I aided the men in dispatching the last corpses. My axe swung high into the face of a nearby corpse and delivered the last killing blow of the group surrounding us, though there were still others in the distance, and fast approaching.

As the corpse I had just slain fell, I noticed my knife launched into the temple of another body and gladly stepped forward to retrieve it.

Glancing about, we had managed to dispose of the ten corpses surrounding the car. Daryl and Glenn turned towards me and I couldn't help but smirk as I knew they hadn't expected to clear them out so quickly, or the fact that I had handled myself so well.

Just as Glenn turned to say something however, I noticed a sudden movement from behind the two men and watched as a corpse staggered upright.

Without thinking I threw my arm holding the knife back, and cast the blade across the way and into the skull of the menacing corpse. I didn't notice Maggie cry out in vain, nor did I notice Glenn shift suddenly in recognition. But I did see, a single arrow spring forward and launch into my side.

Everything was a blur as I felt hands grasp my shoulders. Hazy shadows loomed over me, their shape similar to the contours of a human face, but I couldn't be sure. Mumbling and growling rang through my ears, sending chills down my spine. Absently, I felt something pick me up and the sudden warmth on my shoulder. It was a person; someone had picked me up and cradled me in their arms. They were taking me somewhere, _but where?_ Voices drifted to me as my eyes drooped.

"... What are we gonna do we can't just leave her here..." _No don't leave me._

"Glenn we have to take her back to the others. She saved our lives..."

"WALKERS!"

A wave of pain washed over me as I was placed onto a soft surface, my head lifting onto something familiar. Briefly I opened my eyes and found sparkling green gazing down at me. Her hand lifted and stroked my hair to the side gently.

"You're going to be okay..." Maggie's voice faded as darkness bound me.

* * *

**A/N: As you can see it's a bit of a monster chapter - sorry about that. **

**So what did you think? I know I can't believe Daryl shot her either, what a dick :) Just kidding I LOVE DARYL! Like most of you out there, I'm sure he's your favorite Walking Dead character too...Hmmmm perhaps it's just because Norman Reedus is AWESOME! Any who back to the story ...**

**So yeah Emma is a bit hotheaded, major difference from when she was running from the 'corpses' (Ugh I hate that word) in the prologue. I tried to think of something else to call them by the way, but of course Emma cannot be awesome and use Walkers, because that would be a little too coincidental. What did you think of her? She's a bit of a bitch I think. But that comes down to the fact she's been alone all this time. I still think she's pretty bad ass standing up to Daryl and all...**

**Do you think I got him right? He was actually really hard to portray, even though I worship his character. I found it quite difficult to use better words to describe him... **

**I am also very sorry to everyone who this story may have offended in anyway. I didn't purposely do it, my characters are just a bunch of assholes, well, besides Maggie and Glenn. **

**Maggie is my favorite female character on the Walking Dead, so be prepared to see a lot of her in the next couple of chapters. Also did anyone else notice tension between my Emma and Daryl? What's going on there? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm**

**Thanks for reading, stay tuned and don't be shy to leave a review. Even if you just want to chat Walking Dead. Woo hoo!**


	3. Chapter 2

The forest was still with early morning mist as I traipsed through the row of trees, not thinking twice about the branches I was collecting and whether they would be dry enough to burn. It was day twenty five with the group. My father and brother had settled camp deep within the woods, where thirty or so of us struggled to stay alive. It was different being with so many people at once, feeding them and protecting them, all praying the apocalypse would end. At first, Dad, Charlie and I had been content with surviving on our own. Ever since mom's death we knew we couldn't stay in New Orleans, so taking what we could, we journeyed deep into the woods, hoping there would be fewer corpses to battle.

It was whilst on the run that we met the others. Most were alone, their family member's dead like our mother. Charlie didn't like my father's decision to help these strangers, and neither did I, but something in my father would always feel obligated to help people. I could never quite understand why, knowing that my father was a compassionate man seemed to be fitting, but there was also an underlying glimmer I saw whenever he would save someone. Almost as if he felt the act would bring him closer to something.

Soon our group grew to the thirties and we lived amongst each other in an un-ethical sense of harmony. Charlie broke a few hearts along the way, and my father was appointed leader. But of the three, I took our new home the hardest.

I was troubled for days on end following the death of my mother. I knew Charlie and dad noticed, but they never said anything. They probably didn't know how to deal with my emotional turmoil, _I sure as hell didn't_.

The most difficult thing, for me, was being a part of a group I knew nothing of.

Sure they tried their hardest to talk to me and share their stories of better lives, but I always found myself tuning out; wanting nothing more than to be with own my mother, away from stranger's eyes and the life we had come to share in.

Crouching low, I stared out into the blanket of mist hovering over the forest floor. It seemed peaceful, like that of a mystical world, more prominent in its beauty compared to the nightmarish reality I was currently living. How simple this beauty before me seemed, almost out of place in the horrors that haunted my dreams. _Surely this wasn't real_.

Slowly, I stood, still eyeing the white mist as it danced along the giant roots of trees.

For some unknown reason, images of my life before the apocalypse dawned on me, weaving through my tangled thoughts in a prowling manner.

Gone were the days spent trying to please bosses and co-workers at my nine till five job. They pushed me around, usually getting whatever they wanted, as I would never talk back to them. I was just a lowly intern after all, whose life was heading nowhere fast, and these people with their sharp suits and Lamborghini's, had all the power.

And yet _I_ was the one alive.

Not the manager of the Realtor company, who made it her personal mission in life to sabotage me at every turn. Or my apparent friend that worked beside me, always making my personal life known to the rest of the world. It wasn't even the young, hot-shot owner that made countless unsuitable remarks regarding how well I looked on particular days.

No, I was the one who was alive.

I was the one who made it against all odds, and beat the cruel, indifferent world of my shitty life. _The little servant girl was a survivor._

For the first time in days I felt the tug of my lips pulling into a smile, and I happily turned lugging the mound of firewood in my arms.

_The smell hit me first_.

Putrid flesh drifted through the air, and I could not scream, the sound trapped in the back of my throat as a bloodied hand suddenly lunged forward.

* * *

Surprisingly, I had been shot before.

My father had been an excellent hunter in his prime, and often took me out on expeditions over the summer. Of course I was no expert at tracking, but he had told me I could navigate my way exceptionally well through the forest, a fact that made him proud.

One day, on such a summer's occasion my father had taken me into the woods just behind our cottage home. We had been travelling for half the day, tracking a doe up the mountain side. My father had told me to stay in sight, but of course, being the free-spirit that I was, soon lost sight of him.

It was twilight when the incident happened.

I'd been searching for hours, trying to work my way back towards the house, but hadn't listened to my gut-instincts and wound up deeper in the woods. Over a hill, peering out into the valley, I suddenly spied the doe we had been tracking. But it was not alone. A herd of deer accompanied it, no more than four. It was a beautiful sight to behold, gazing over the creatures under a tranquil, starry night.

Of course, peaceful moments only lasted so long.

Sharp pain suddenly rippled down the side of my shoulder as a misfired shot rang out across the valley and connected with the wrong target. I remembered the searing fire that echoed through me, and screaming at the top of my lungs whilst the group of hunters made their way over.

But nothing compared to the pain I was in now.

It was endless; fire spread over the expanse of my torso, down each of my limbs and burrowed in the centre of my spine. I was in distress, deprived of every feeling but one; an overpowering sensation that burned from deep within my core.

Briefly my eyes opened as the feeling of moving suddenly surrounded me. The same anxious, green eyes stared back, whispering that everything would be alright. I tried desperately to focus on the person, longing to know where it was they were taking me, but the pain was too much for my body to handle and soon drifted into an immobile state.

Hours seemed to pass before the moving slowed to a stop, and my body was shifted slightly. Car doors opened and distance voices drifted toward me, their tones unfamiliar.

"What the hell is this?" A deep voice snarled. I tried to look in the direction the voice had come from, but a sharp pain rippled down the side of my neck, halting any further movements.

"She helped us." _Maggie?_ "We were surrounded by walkers. Emma, that's her name, she saved us." There was a moment's pause as the others took in the new information. I was still unaware how many were in the group, but could tell their numbers were far greater than the three I had saved. _Nice one Emma._

"She also gave us supplies," someone mumbled abruptly. I couldn't be sure who it was, but I had a feeling the nervous voice belonged to Glenn.

_Glad the kid didn't forget that little gesture_, I smirked carelessly and winced when the action only furthered my torture.

"So why the hell is she here?" The voice yelled. I could only imagine the horrific sight of my frail body, un-showered, covered in blood and sweat, and now with an arrow fixed to my side.

"There was a complication," Maggie's drawl faltered, and I could picture the frown masking her striking features. Strangely, I disliked the thought of her being upset. It reminded me of my mother, her kind and beautiful face, and how she would always seem a little disappointed in me whenever I did something wrong. No, I definitely did not like to be reminded of that, not now.

Arguments arose, mostly between Maggie and the rest. I had to applaud the girl for her bravery. The refusal to back down was flattering, even when she was challenged by the others. Maggie truly was stronger than I thought, and possibly even more than people gave her credit for.

After each side was argued, someone finally stepped forward and silenced the dispute. "I agree it was dangerous bringing her here," he began, by means of a thick Southern drawl; similar to Maggie's I noticed. "But if the others say the girl saved them, then I believe it." Someone moved to disagree with the man, but the Southern drawl swiftly finished his rant, tone reflecting irritation at the disturbance. "Now we can stand around arguing what they did was wrong, or we can take this poor girl inside and treat her wounds. I for one do not fancy having the blood of an innocent life on our hands."

It seemed my fate would be determined by people I didn't even know.

_What had the world come to?_ Deciding whether to help a person based on the possibility that she was a threat. I swallowed back insults and inwardly cringed. _Who was I kidding?_ If it were me, I would be just as suspicious. There wouldn't be anyone safe from the wrath of Emma Morgan, as heartless as it seemed, that was how people survived.

Approaching footsteps broke through my mental tirade and I tensed as the reality of the situation hit me. I was either going to die at their hands, or live to fight another day.

Strong arms lifted my weak body from the back of the car, and briefly I felt the steady beat of a heart beneath the person's shirt. It was comforting in a way, to know that my final moments would be spent with a human and not a rotting corpse.

Sunlight blared over me, strangely working against the fire my wound had created. It felt good to have the warming rays of sunshine caress the contours of my face and somehow work to strengthen my hopes for survival. The light suddenly disappeared as whoever carried me, stepped into darkness, a musky smell lingering against my senses.

We had entered a building.

Judging by the severity of the footsteps around me, I suspected it was a corridor we had gone through. I listened carefully to the steady heart beat of the person carrying my frail body, wondering where exactly they were taking me, and hoping it would be safe. The footsteps grew less intense and soon I was gently laid on a cool surface, stiff and rigid all over.

The others still talked amongst themselves beside me, but I wasn't listening anymore. Instead I focused on the rapid increase of my breaths. Something wasn't right. Of course I didn't expect to be jumping about killing corpses right away, but it was just an arrow, the wound shouldn't have left me feeling this drained.

I felt hands lifting the side of my shirt and tensed.

"This looks bad," the man murmured as he cleaned around the wound. I recognized his voice to be the same one that had defended me outside earlier, and felt a little of the tension lighten, but only a little.

"Can you fix it daddy?" That was Maggie's familiar drawl again, though it had lost its usual spark, hidden beneath concern and something else.

"I'll try," he paused, testing the arrow's depth and I winced in response. "She seems a little weak," the voice mused. _Who's he calling weak?_ "But if we don't get this arrow out now, the wound could become infected."

"What do you need me to do daddy?" Maggie asked, determined.

There was no verbal answer in reply, but a heavy sigh instead. A few moments passed before the man spoke again. "Hold her down," he whispered.

I cringed upon hearing the command, fearing what would surely come and gasped when two sets of hands reached forward and held my legs firmly in place. Another, soft pair gently gripped my callous hands and I breathed a little at the comfort it brought.

"On the count of three..." The man began and both hands suddenly tensed in response.

I tried to think of something else, anything to take my mind off what was about to happen.

Memories flooded my mind.

"One..."

The first was my mother, her endearing smile beaming down at a nine year old me in adoration, as she combed my stubborn hair. She hummed a gentle tune to herself, one I could have spent the entire night listening to.

"Two..."

My father came to me then; a thick, graying beard tickled my cheek as he leaned forward to place his customary goodnight kiss. The man's gentle and watchful eyes came next, all dark and endless like my own, always wrinkling at the very corners whenever he smiled a toothy grin down at me.

"Three..."

The last memory stunned me most of all.

It was of my brother, Charlie, and our final moments together. His face was contorted, mixed with fear and agony. The scene played out slowly, casting a wide view of my brother sprinting swiftly into the darkness of the forest and leaving me behind, calling after him.

A searing pain suddenly ripped through my abdomen and darkness soon erased the final image of my brother.

I screamed.

* * *

The corpse had hold of my jacket.

Lunging forward it pushed hard and we fell, bloodied teeth snapping fervently at my throat. Somehow I had managed to keep his arms form scratching any part of me, but I could feel my grip slipping with every attempt the corpse made to lunge forward. There was no point reaching for my weapon now, any move would give the corpse its opportunity. Not that I would have known how to use it anyway. Charlie and dad had shown me how to kill a corpse once before, but I hadn't been paying attention. I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity to learn how to defend myself. I mentally cried out at my own stupidity, _how could I have been so foolish_?

The snarls grew closer. I shoved, pushing hard to get the weight off me, but it was no use. I was shorter and had no muscle of my own to be able to attempt such a feat.

This was it, I was going to die.

Tears escaped, rushing from the corners of my eyes and I groaned hysterically, fear coursing through my veins as the corpse inched even closer. _What a sad excuse for a survivor._

The corpse lunged forward in one last attempt, aiming for my neck, and I waited breathlessly for the feel of its teeth to clamp down on my throat.

_But it didn't come. _

Instead, the thrashing body went limp on top of me and our struggle ended. Without a moment to process what had happened the weight suddenly disappeared altogether and I was abruptly pulled to my feet.

"Emma," familiar strong arms embraced me and I whimpered into his shoulder. Charlie pulled away to look me over, his dark eyes imploring every facet. I only whimpered, still clutching his hand. Once he was satisfied I was okay he pulled me into another strong embrace and sighed in relief. "Holy shit," he breathed, shaking slightly. "I thought he had you. I thought..."

He didn't finish his heartfelt concern as I held up my hand for him to stop. "I'm alright. The c-corpse didn't get me," I managed to get out, cracking a small smile to show that I was truly fine, or would pretend I was anyway.

Unexpectedly his handsome face took on a familiar glare.

"You shouldn't have left camp without someone else," he stated firmly. I gasped at the sudden change in tone, still choking on tearful sobs, and only managed a frown in return. Charlie looked away, staring down at my attacker with disgust. I followed his line of sight and swallowed. A pile of branches lay beside the corpse and absently I bent to retrieve them, feeling disheartened by the sudden eerie nature.

"The camp needed firewood," I whispered lamely, not knowing what else to say. When I had retrieved the lot and stood to glance over at Charlie, I paused.

The concerned younger brother from before had disappeared, replaced with the hardened, robotic soldier I had come to know in recent weeks.

"We should get back," he mumbled. "Dad will be worried." And with that he sauntered off into the direction of the camp.

I took my time, trailing slowly behind so that I could study him.

He was his usual burly self, almost an exact replica of my father; big, strong and stoic. People had often joked about their likeliness, calling them genetically-engineered bags of muscle, but my mother and I knew better. Both men had been in the army, respected marines amongst their comrades. I remembered when dad would tell us stories of his adventures, sparking Charlie's interest and creating a line of Morgan's who served for their country.

Besides his fit-physique Charlie was also very good-looking, sometimes a little too much so for his own good. He had short, cropped brown hair like my fathers, with eyes to match; high cheek bones that defined his face and a strong jaw where he was constantly trying to grow a beard.

Girls had been hanging off his every word ever since high school and I found myself always keeping them at bay, being the mean older sister and all. But Charlie had never been a bad-soul. It was part of the reason girls were so fascinated by him. Sure he was a little boisterous and sought the attention of his friends, but if one thing could ever be said about Charlie, it was that he had a good heart. He earned everyone's respect and people gladly followed him. Even as a Marine his peers and commanding officers held him with such high regard. It was admirable the confidence and humility he was able to posses at once.

But something in Charlie had changed.

Gone was the younger brother who had a constant smile on his face, the boy who laughed and played games and cared for every person he loved. No, Charlie Morgan was different now. He wasn't my younger brother anymore.

We were back at the campsite quicker than expected, though I put that down to the quick pace Charlie kept the entire way. It had almost been a struggle to keep up with him.

Our camp could be summed up in one word; small.

A layer of barbed wire surrounded the clearing, creating what little security we had. There were two stations of cars set up just beside that, where guards were positioned to keep watch for corpses. Further in was where the tents were lined off to the right, the centre held a space for the fire-pit. To the left of the camp site was a gentle stream where most of the women washed clothes and prepared meals.

When we had stumbled upon the clearing almost a month ago, the place seemed serene amidst the wild forest, greenery.

Now it looked crammed.

Charlie spared me a single frown before storming off into the direction of our father's tent; it was set up away from the others, a place where the men could hold meetings. I sighed watching him go, whispering small thanks into the wind.

As I walked through the camp, people smiled and waved in my direction, none the wiser to my recent predicament. I returned the gesture halfheartedly, not feeling in the mood to talk to anyone at present, and made my way over to the small blue tent that had been my humble home since the apocalypse.

I could hear her before I could see her.

Unzipping the entrance way, I smiled when the familiar sight of a ten year old snoring, her head off caught me. The girl was fast asleep between our blankets, her blonde curls matted to the sides of her face. My father and I had found her wandering alone two weeks ago and she had been by my side ever since. Carefully so as not to wake her, I sprawled out on my bedspread and stared up at the roof of the tent.

_I'd almost died today. _

The reality hit me square in the chest and I winced, holding back tears. Even though things with my brother were different he had still saved my life. I had been moments from death, moments from living, and I would forever be grateful to him. Thinking back to the moment where the corpse had me pinned to the ground, I swallowed.

_So close_, _I was so close._

* * *

It was the tapping that woke me.

Three precise and rather irritating taps that echoed through the room. Recoiling at the pain it caused but ignoring it anyway, I opened my eyes warily.

I was on a floor, a concrete floor to be exact. The coolness of it, pressed against my body and I reveled in the relief it brought to the raging fire within me. My left hand flinched and grazed the woolen material of a blanket someone had draped over me. I gently pushed it from around my legs, endeavoring to heave my aching body from the ground. Upon moving however, a burning sensation suddenly rippled through my abdomen and I cried out silently as the pain enveloped me.

_Shit, _I cussed, waiting for the tremor to end.

After a few calming breaths I tried again and this time managed to perch myself against, what felt like metal bars behind me.

_Where the fuck was I? _My brows furrowed in confusion and I glanced about the room apprehensively, only to be left completely gobsmacked.

I was in prison, _literally._

Solid concrete lined every wall, floor and roof. A guard room stood high above the room to the right, overlooking metal tables and chairs that were molded into the ground before me. There were two cells, the size of a small office in the room. One I was currently leaning on and the other a short distance away beside me. To the left I spied stairs leading down a narrow corridor and on my right a barred doorway that possibly led to the rest of the cell block.

Instinctively I reached for my axe, ready to face any threat, but instead felt an odd tug on my right hand. With furrowed brows I turned to face my dilemma and found my hand constricted in silver handcuffs, locked firmly on the metal bars beside me. I gasped.

Absently, I was aware that the tapping noise from before had stopped, but was too caught up in the fact that I was handcuffed to a cell to be concerned with the source. It wasn't until a shadow loomed forward from the darkness, that I became aware of someone else's presence in the room.

_It was him._

I could feel the scowl growing on my face before I had time to register what I was doing. Daryl sauntered from the corner of the room and slowly made his way towards the barred door in the far right-hand corner. I followed his movements, noting how he avoided my glare, and unlocked the metal-framed door. He paused before opening it wide, as if something held him back, and in one move turned back to me.

I met his gaze, eyeing him stoically, a little stunned by the man's conduct. His ever-present frown was there, annoyingly masking his emotions. I was about to comment on how ridiculous he looked just standing there, until a sudden glimmer of something flashed across his features. Was it _relief_? I couldn't be sure. His stance was strange and took me completely by surprise, but I quickly hid my astonishment behind a hardened glare. I_ could have just imagined the whole thing_.

He stared for a moment longer before pacing from the room and disappearing through the barred entryway, leaving me frowning at his retreat.

_What the hell was I supposed to do now?_

Before I had time to process an escape route Daryl reappeared, crossbow slung high over his shoulder. The sight of him holding the weapon sent a flash of images to the forefront of my mind, and I knew he could see what I was thinking. I prepared to fix him with a notorious _Emma Morgan_ glare, but movement from behind the man stopped me.

Five people marched into the room, each with guarded eyes as they gazed across at my figure, slumped on the floor.

The first I instantly recognized as Glenn, he carried a dangerous rifle in his hands though nodded when I glanced his way. The second man I did not know, he was older with great white hair and a kind smile, an almost _familiar_ kind smile. He flanked Glenn's right side, but did not hold any weapons. The third was a dark-skinned man, big and solid, carrying an identical rifle to Glenn's as he moved to stand next to Daryl.

_Do they think they're some kind of 'A-team' or something? _I laughed at the thought.

The last man to walk in was different from the rest. He was tall and thin, walking forward with a little more confidence and determination than the others. I immediately tensed at his approach. His serious gaze bore into mine and I found myself recoiling in fear.

A flash of brown curls caught my eye from behind the man, and a familiar figure limped around the barred doorway and made her way forward. Maggie smiled her genuine sweetheart-smile, instantly calming whatever tension was in the air, _but only slightly._

The girl made her way over to the far side of the room, where the white-haired man stood away from the others. It was then that I realized the connection. He and Maggie were obviously related in some way, as was evident in their kind faces.

"So," my eyes swiveled away from the pair and locked with powerful grey-eyes, studying me cautiously. It was the apparent leader of the group who had spoken first, his hands on hips appearing troubled and drained. "You saved my group."

It wasn't exactly a question, but I nodded anyway and the man narrowed his eyes as he processed the information. After a moment of glaring he exhaled, pinching the sides of his temple with long fingers. _"Why?"_

The grumble reminded me of Daryl's reaction to my assistance and I locked eyes with him across the room. He seemed to be thinking of that moment too, though I couldn't be sure as his frown made it difficult to read him.

With a sigh I straightened and eyed the man evenly, ignoring the haughty response I truly wanted to give him. "They were struggling with a group of corpses," I looked down, thinking back to the bloody massacre. The three of them had been close to death, barely managing the drove of disease-bearing zombies themselves. If it wasn't for me, they would all be dead. _Did they not see that?_

Tilting my head upwards, I met the leaders gaze squarely, trying to convey the truth behind my actions, through narrowed eyes. "To me it was the right thing to do, and if y'all have a problem with that, then I'm sorry but I _don't_ regret it."

It was the truth.

I would have rather endured the pain of being shot at again then to sit back and watch the three of them die in front of me. As strange as it seemed, I still had my morals, and I wasn't about to go changing now.

The others shared meaningful looks. Daryl's frown was the most interesting of all, as he stared at me with a mixture of confusion and something else. I ignored it though when the white-haired man suddenly inched closer.

"I want to thank you for what you did for my daughter." He drawled, and I immediately recognized the voice of the man who had healed me. I nodded once to both accept his gratitude and also convey my own, braving a smile for Maggie whose eyes flooded with relief. She obviously seemed relieved to be forgiven so easily, though I liked to think it would be hard for any person to stay mad at Maggie Greene.

"We all do," my gaze averted back to the leader, more relaxed in his stance now. "It's been a while since someone has gone out of their way to do anything like that for us. So you'll forgive me for being a little suspicious." He smiled warmly though it did not reach his eyes.

I studied the man for a moment.

He was perhaps in his late thirties or forties. There was exhaustion set deep within his eyes, evident in the dark rings under them. He was deathly pale with dark hair that looked due for a haircut. In a way the man could be considered handsome. He was definitely not my type, but there was no denying the attractiveness in his confidence.

_At least the guy had balls,_ I smirked.

Moments passed before my right hand tugged on the cuffs binding me to the prison, literally, and I frowned, glancing at the silver contraption. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but why do you have me cuffed to this cell."

The others exchanged a look and I noticed Glenn's rifle twitch, making me smirk a little, and I turned to look at the boy. "I save your life and you still don't trust me," I scoffed.

_Oh no_, the bitch had awoken.

Noticing my change in character the leader stepped forward, commanding my attention once more. _No more Mr. Nice guy it seemed_. "We had to make sure you weren't a threat to us."

I laughed a little, sitting up. "I don't see how my little ol' self is going to hurt four armed men, especially after I just saved two of them from corpses," I blinked, but backed off a little on the defensive. The wrath of Emma Morgan would just have to wait. If I wanted to get out of here, I would have to play doe-eyed innocence.

"Rick, she has a point," Maggie called from the sidelines, only to be met with several glares. I wanted to tell them all to get fucked, but quickly swallowed back insults.

_C'mon Emma, just hold it in. _

The leader glanced uncertainly at the white-haired man across the room and received a nod in response, but I didn't know what for. Rick processed it for a moment before turning and reaching into his pocket, withdrawing a silver key. I breathed in relief as he came forward, noticing the others aiming their weapons on me as he approached.

_Sure, point your weapons at the girl, who just saved half your group's lives_, I scowled at the men gathered in a circle around me.

The cuffs unlocked, interrupting my mental cusses, and I immediately rubbed at the red marks on my wrists, nodding to the leader in thanks.

"Well now that we're all friends," the dark-skinned man smiled, dropping his rifle on the table and taking a seat on one of the metal chairs. "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?" He smiled a big toothy grin, replacing any previous thoughts I had of the man, instantly.

The others seemed to loosen up slightly too, though they did not take a cue from the man's book, instead choosing to back off slightly. Rick was the only one who remained near me.

After regarding each of them coolly, I cleared my throat and began the brief version of my back story. The version I had made up for this exact situation.

"I was living in New Orleans when the outbreak occurred. My mother was bit and died, but my father and ..._brother_, we all made it out alive." I paused, closing my eyes momentarily, allowing the flux of images to unfold across my mind. "We were camped in the woods, a group of us. People we had found along the way." I frowned hesitating on the next part, but soldiered on with my head high. "One night the corpses they...they came from everywhere. Almost half our group was wiped out in the initial attack. My father was one of them." I met Maggie's wide eyes across from me, her head shaking in disbelief over the horror story. I shrugged turning back to the leader. There was no point in crying over something that had happened a long time ago now. "The rest of us, we...we got separated. My brother, I ..._.lost_ him and others." I broke off, registering the group's reactions before continuing. "I've been alone ever since."

Silence followed. Most processed the news with frowns, Maggie being the only one concerned as her eyes glistened with tears. I tried hard not to look her way, knowing she would only do more harm than good. I didn't need her sympathy; I didn't need any of theirs.

My mind wondered back in time upon the group's silence. Reminding me why I had traveled so far from New Orleans.

Everything had happened so fast. One moment the group was enjoying a late night meal under the stars, listening as we each told tales of lives spent before the outbreak, and the next we were under attack. It was horrifying. People were falling at every turn, gun shots rang out through the forest and lights blared from different directions. Briefly, I remembered sprinting into the darkness, trying to keep up with my brother in front of me. We were close, we were going to survive, and then I fell. My leg twisted and I could feel the sprain pinching up the side of my ankle. I was calling out, I was yelling for Charlie to stop.

But he didn't.

My brother had left me behind.

Thankfully no one had noticed my little relapse and I stoically met Rick's gaze, covering my arms over my chest.

"How long have you been alone," the dark-skinned man asked from beside me. I smiled up at him, trying to appear strong in the wake of my recent turmoil.

"Eight months now, but who's counting," I smirked.

Rick narrowed his gaze at my comment and stepped closer. "Why haven't you joined another group?" _Always the suspicious soul, what was he a cop or something?_

I groaned, refraining from rolling my eyes heavenward. "It was better that way. I didn't want what happened with my last group to happen again. Knowing all of those people and then just losing them, it was like a nightmare, one you can't wake up from." I paused, frowning. "It was better that I be alone."

The others nodded in understanding.

"You said you had a brother," the white-haired man drawled after a momentary silence. "Where is he now?"

I gasped, looking away and meeting Daryl's questioning frown. _Could I tell them that that my own blood had left me behind? _

No, I decided. It was my burden to bear.

"That's something I'd like to know as well Doc. We were separated."

The white-haired man nodded, at a loss for words no doubt, by the immediate dismissal of my brother. He exchanged a look with Rick.

"Did you ever find him again?" Glenn whispered curiously. I arched my brows, fixing the Asian boy with a look that said, _'well obviously not'_, and he stepped back sheepishly.

The leader watched the exchange with narrowed eyes before speaking. "Sure you don't know where he is?" He said, arms hanging from narrow hips. I only nodded in response, not caring whether they believed me or not. I was over the interrogation.

"Look I get that you don't trust me, but you have to understand that I don't want to cause any trouble here," locking eyes with the leader, I urged him to believe my standing. "All I want is to leave." My breath hitched and I waited patiently for the man to register my words.

A cough from behind the group interrupted Rick's thoughts and as one, the group looked over at Daryl, whose eyes were fixed solely on me, before meeting the others puzzled stares.

"I'm all for bein' cautious an' all Rick," he mumbled, a serious glint in his eye. "But the girl dun' all right by us so far. We should let her go."

Rick opened his mouth to say something to the man, but closed it, frowning deeply. It was fair enough to say that everyone was shocked by Daryl blatantly defending me, the girl who was still recovering from being shot at by him, earlier in the day.

Even I had to hide my surprise beneath a frown.

They stared at each other, Rick no doubt trying to understand where his comrade was coming from. Daryl remained firm however, never wavering from his stance. It seemed I had misjudged the arrow-man after all; he _did_ have a heart.

"Fine," Rick grumbled after a long silence. He turned back to me with guarded eyes and clutched dramatically at his belt. I noticed then that a gun hung from it, looking every bit as dangerous as the man's eyes. "You can leave in the morning."

The group, taking Rick's words as their cue to leave, began making their way towards the barred doorway, but the leader remained. Instead of joining his group he crouched in front of me, somehow managing to pull his weapon in the same move, and gazed evenly at me with the weapon clasped loosely in his hands.

"We'll take you back to your hideout," he whispered. "And someone will make sure it is safe for you." The man narrowed his gaze then and lowered his voice so that only I could hear. "But If I ever catch sight of you near this prison, or if I find out what you told us was a lie. I won't hesitate to kill you." With that, the man stood and paced from the room, leaving me reeling over his final words.

Maggie and Daryl were the only two who remained in the concrete cell block. They watched their leader stalking away and turned to me with questioning frowns. I only stared back at them, conveying the threat that had just been made, with a knowing look. Maggie gasped, but did not approach; instead she locked eyes with Daryl and limped from the room. At the doorway she paused and looked over her shoulder, offering a small, re-assuring smile before disappearing into the darkness beyond.

"He threatened ya, didn't he?"

My gaze drifted to the arrow-man and narrowed. "A real charmer," I joked, but could tell that it did not fool the man in the slightest. Daryl grunted, hitching his crossbow higher and stalked from my sight. I followed him, brows furrowed as I contemplated his actions. When he was almost through the door he paused, creating a weird sense of déjà vu.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled suddenly and I couldn't help the gasp that escaped my lips. He didn't turn like before, but I could hear the honesty in his words. Whether it was for what his leader had just threatened me with, or for shooting me with his crossbow, Daryl was truly sorry and strangely, I was content.

He locked the door behind him, crossbow over his shoulder, and disappeared into the darkness like Maggie before him, becoming one with the shadows.

Finally left alone to my thoughts, I replayed the day's events slowly through my mind, thinking back to when I had saved the threesome, and only recently to Rick's threat. The emotions that flowed through me were strong, feelings I hadn't felt in a long time. To talk with people again was an experience in itself, but to endure what I had just gone through, with this group, was something else.

Never in my eight months alone had I been threatened. Sure it was a struggle to survive against the corpses, but at least they weren't exactly capable of tying you up and questioning your morals, they just attacked. The threat was always clear.

But the world had truly changed now, and humans had become just as dangerous to each other, as the corpses they defended themselves against. I gently tilted my head back and closed my eyes allowing sleep to consume me.

_Why didn't I just steal the car?_

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys so what did you think?**

**This chapter is pretty much just a filler, I wanted to expose some pieces of back story so that you could know a little bit more about Emma and the transition she's gone through. Also the whole Charlie story. **

**BTW, yes Charlie left her behind, the jerk. But more on that story later. **

**Did you guys like Emma meeting the group? It was a little awkward for me to write because I knew she wouldn't be accepted right away, that would be just ridiculous. And the fact that she's haughty as hell makes for a rather difficult approach.**

**What did you think of Rick? I may have blown his character way out of proportion, but I like him as the harsh one - way more bad-ass that way :) Also, I told you there would be more Maggie, she's honestly one of the best female characters on the show and I love her. I hope her and Emma become friends soon, who knows. **

**A question to you all, who do you think carried Emma into the prison? **

**a) Rick**

**b) Glenn**

**c) Daryl**

**Or d) T-Dog**

**In the next chapter Emma's going to be making some tough decisions, and will end up having an awkward conversation with ... :D**

**Anyway enough for now, stay cool all you FF readers, and thank you so much for the followers, favorites and review. KEEP EM COMING!**

**xx**


	4. Chapter 3

_Hey! Mr Tambourine Man,_

_Play a song for me_

_I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to_

_Hey! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me_

_In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you._

_Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand_

_Vanished from my hand_

_Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping_

_My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet_

_I have no one to meet_

_And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming_

_"Do you think daddy will be alright over there?"_

_The woman smiled kindly at me whilst braiding my long hair. She continued singing the soft melody as she went, eyes glimmering under the late afternoon sun. When my hair was finished, her silk fingers cupped the tear stained cheeks under my eyes and her smile re-appeared, more vibrant than ever. _

_"You know your father," she said. "He'll be just fine."_

I gasped awake.

My head rested against the cold metal bars behind me, and I winced, adjusting from the position I had fallen asleep in. A moment of grogginess suddenly overwhelmed me as I glanced about the blurred room, still recovering from my deep slumber.

When I focused on the concrete walls surrounding me, I sighed. _I was still in prison. _

_Momma would be so proud._

Struggling upright, I clicked my neck either side, studying the room around me. It still looked as tedious and grey as it had only hours ago.

At the end of my gruelling interrogation, Rick and the others had left me unchained and throbbing with pain, in my very own division of the cell block.

Thinking I would be alone for the entire night, moments after the group's exit, the dark-skinned man returned with his rifle in hand.

Informing me that he was on watch duty and would shoot if I tried anything funny, the man sat in the corner of the cell and amused himself by humming soft tunes.

The sounds had echoed to me from the walls, a painful reminder of my mother and how she would sing similar haunting songs.

I ignored the sweet sounds of the man crooning and focused instead on the wall opposite my slumped figure. Dwelling on past memories whilst my fate still hung _venerably_ in the air, was the worst thing I could possibly do. Right now, I had to focus on getting out alive.

_My emotional anarchy would just have to wait._

Hours later, Glenn had arrived to relieve the man. The two exchanged soft words that I didn't quite catch and soon my first guard departed through the barred doorway, covering a yawn.

The Asian boy had made no move to converse, instead finding it much more entertaining to gaze at the barred windows high above to my right. I didn't mind though. I had welcomed the silence, tipping my head back against the metal bars behind me, falling in and out of consciousness.

It'd been a long time since I had talked with anyone about my family, or the New Orleans's group for that matter, and replaying the night's interrogation over in my head made it all the more real. The deaths of my family and friends would forever be imprinted in my mind.

The only piece of information I still contemplated about telling this new group, was that of my brother, Charlie.

Of course I hadn't seen him in over eight months, but I was still looking, searching far and wide. It was the true reason behind not joining another group, or staying somewhere for too long. I _needed _to find my brother. I had to see him again. Nothing else mattered.

_Soon_, I mumbled incoherently, drifting into a deep slumber. _Soon, I will be free of this group, and the hunt for Charlie will begin again._

Now wide awake and feeling a little depleted, I glanced about the room, searching for my many guards. But no one was in sight.

Voices suddenly drifted to me from the other part of the cell block and I frowned, trying to distinguish who exactly was talking. They continuously bantered back and forth, most demanding to know who I was and why I was there. It took me a moment to realise these voices were new. _So they had even more people. Great._

I wasn't going to lie. The growing number of their group frightened me. Not just because I was clearly outnumbered–_though that wasn't forgotten_–but also for the simple fact that being with them reminded me of my old group, and my broken family at that.

_One night the corpses they...they came from everywhere. Almost half our group was wiped out in the initial attack. My father was one of them._

I squeezed my eyes shut as painful memories flooded me.

There was no chance of escaping the torturous sensation, similar to the piercing one in my abdomen. My hands were white fists at my sides and I waited breathlessly for the flux of images that had invaded my mind, to slow before bravely opening my eyes once more and releasing a calming breath. _I had to get out of here._

As if reading my mind, the others appeared moments later, apparently done with their debacle. Rick entered first, commanding my presence with his hardened glare. Maggie, The Doc, and Daryl followed after him and I was surprised to see a woman, no older than myself gently closing the barred door behind them.

Briefly, our gazes met.

She was tall and beautiful with a mane of dark hair, similar to my own. Dressed in simple jeans and a faded shirt that worked wonders for her lean form, the woman eyed me cautiously for a moment, before breaking away and disappearing around the bend.

I glanced up as Rick moved further into the room. Sharing a knowing look with his comrades, the man set his gaze upon me once more, a scowl etched deep into the contours of his face. He didn't say anything at first, tension gripping the room with each passing second. After a long pause he turned back to The Doc flanking his right and nodded once.

The white haired man glided forward without a word, his brows slightly furrowed as he took a seat on one of the many metals stools just in front of me.

"Good morning dear," he drawled; a kind smile on his face, though it did not reach his eyes. "Now I just want to take a look at that wound. Make sure everything's alright."

My eyes narrowed slightly at first, but I nodded once and slowly pulled the right side of my sweater up, watching as The Doc moved forward to complete his assessment of the wound.

I hadn't noticed before, but The Doc had actually done a good job of bandaging me up, and I smiled in thanks when the old man declared to the others that I was fine.

"Make sure you clean the wound properly," The Doc said, looking over his shoulder as he walked away. "Don't want it to get infected now."

I nodded once in return, a smile still lingering, and glanced at the leader standing off to the side of the group. He seemed agitated by something. His stance was troubled and his grey eyes burned into me from across the room.

No one else noticed the leader's glare, but I did.

It was startling at first, especially in the wake of his recent threat, but I met his gaze stoically after a moment, not wanting to show just how much he truly frightened me.

Daryl, who had been leaning against the concrete wall to my right, shuffled then, calling my attention with his quick movements, and I turned to the man with a frown. He wasn't looking at me though. His eyes were glued to the leader's face, watching, almost waiting expectantly for something to happen.

"So what's the plan Rick?" Maggie's voice cut in and I tore my gaze away from the two men and looked to the girl across from me. She wasn't her usual self also, but was nowhere near as hostile as Rick appeared.

The leader averted his gaze from me and glanced at Maggie. "I haven't decided."

My mouth dropped.

At once, my fears of a vulnerable future were brought to life. I stared at the leader, trying to determine whether I had heard him correctly or not.

_Had he actually gone against his word?_

One look at the man, standing anxiously across the room, was all it took.

_I wasn't going anywhere. _

"I thought we had already decided. Did you change your mind?" The Doc frowned at the young man, but the leader did not meet his comrade's hardened gaze, instead, he focused solely on me.

"Suppose she's lying to us," Rick began, casting a quick glance to the group before taking a step forward. I remained silent as he approached. Not knowing exactly what to say. "What if we let her go and she turns on us. Leads her group here–"

"–I _don't_ have a group," my weak claim echoed through the concrete room, but the leader continued with a shake of his head.

"How do we know that?" He yelled, shocking me to silence once more. None of the others had made a move; they only stared at their leader, a mixture of shock and disbelief. "We have no way of knowing whether she is telling the truth or not, but we're still going to let her go?" His voice trailed off.

"Rick," Maggie breathed, stepping closer to the man. "We're the reason she's here." The girl's voice caught but she continued with her head held high. "We could have died. Glenn, Daryl and I could have died, but we didn't. _Emma_ saved us. We owe her our help."

"And what if she turns around and betrays us?" Rick practically shouted, his face turning deathly pale. Maggie took a step back, glancing over her shoulder at The Doc.

The white haired man nodded, assuming a firm stance next to the young girl, his arms raised in a calm manner. "There is no way of knowing Rick. Maggie is right," The Doc drawled, brows furrowed. "This girl saved them. She risked her life to help _our people_, even considering the difficult circumstances." He paused and inched even closer. "Now if that isn't worthy of our trust, than I don't know what is."

Rick stared at the man for a long while, his eyes uneasy and stance slightly agitated. When it seemed hours had passed Rick finally sighed, bringing a hand up to his shallow face, exhaustion clear in the man's posture. He glanced towards me once and then turned back to The Doc, shaking his head. "Hershel, she _knows_ where we are."

_Silence._

"We could blindfold her," a familiar grumble suddenly interrupted and as one, all eyes locked with his. Daryl pushed off the wall and approached the leader, frowning as usual. "She was unconscious the whol' time. If we blindfold her, she won' even know which way ta come back." His stance was firm as he watched the leader.

Rick furrowed his brows contemplating the arrow-man's words, but it was Maggie who spoke up eagerly. "The town was miles away Rick, even if she was with a group they would never be able to find us." I couldn't help but smile at the duo in front of me, their figures unwavering. It seemed I had guardian angels.

_Who would have thought? _

The room settled as Rick listened carefully to their pleas, his hands placed on narrow hips. An anxious feeling whirled deep in the pit of my stomach, as if I was waiting for test results from school, _but this was worse. _This was my life we were talking about.

Locking eyes with me yet again, the leader flinched before turning away and facing Daryl. "Alright," he whispered, barely audible. "She can leave."

It was decided that Daryl would drive me back to the town I had been holed up in. I was a little surprised by his decision, but the leader seemed to trust the fact that Daryl could handle himself. One look in Daryl's direction confirmed the leader's decision, especially as the arrow-man hitched his crossbow higher. Without sparing another glance my way, the leader paced from the room with The Doc in tow.

Daryl lingered behind, watching the leader go with a frown. But there was something else there too; a flash of doubt seemed to mirror on the man's face, but in an instant it was gone, and he silently followed the other two out.

Maggie stared down the corridor for a moment, watching all three men depart with a curious look on her face. Turning toward me with a small smile, she bounded forward and hauled me to my feet. Joking that I was so skinny she could lift me up with one hand, the girl settled me on the ground warily, and waited as my fragile state adjusted to its new surroundings.

I offered her a small smirk which the girl attempted to reciprocate, but it did not reach her eyes. She was worried about something, a frown etching above her brow.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, wincing as I attempted a forward step. I was weak, the burning still coursed throughout my tiny frame, but there was no point in babying the wound now, as I would shortly be left to my own devices.

Maggie walked slowly beside me all the while, her hand cautiously raised in case I fell. "Just thinking," was all she said, her green eyes concentrated on the task at hand.

Silently, we limped to the corridor, Maggie ever-present by my side.

At the end of the hall Rick and The Doc conversed in hushed voices, their stances suggesting the topic of discussion was becoming rather heated.

Noticing our approach they ended their exchange swiftly and turned towards us, Rick holding a black piece of material in his hands. I bravely limped forward, casting a quick glance over my shoulder at the girl behind me. She smiled and I returned it. This would be the last time I would see the green-eyed southern belle, and I tried to convey as much thanks as I could into the single look.

After a deep breath I stepped forward so that the leader could efficiently tie the black material around my eyes.

_This was it._

Before I could move however, strong arms abruptly grasped my shoulders and I felt the breath of someone lean forward and whisper into my ear, so that only I could hear.

"Remember what I said."

I swallowed; taking in the leader's threat as fresh air suddenly hit my shivering body.

Without a single word to the others, I was led out through the door at the end of the hallway, and into blazing sunlight that trailed around me. It was a short walk before I felt another pair of familiar strong hands gently lift me into the car. _A _memory rushed to the forefront of my mind and I frowned as it took shape.

_Strong arms lifted my weak body from the back of the car, and briefly I felt the steady beat of a heart beneath the person's shirt. It was comforting in a way, to know that my final moments would be spent with a human and not a rotting corpse._

My frown deepened.

Absently I registered someone shutting the passenger side door and I shifted from irrational thoughts and waited for Daryl to start the engine. The sensation of moving surrounded me once more, but this time, I greeted it warmly, wanting nothing more than to be free of this prison. _Literally._

* * *

I was too hot.

Covers draped heavily over my barely-conscious form, and I struggled out of them with a moan, drenched head-to-toe in sweat.

From the distance someone giggled innocently. "Good afternoon sleepy head," they chorused. I blinked, rubbing the side my head, and smiled as a familiar face came into view.

Paige was sweet; with a heart-shaped face and a bob of fuzzy blonde curls. She was ten years old and the only one in camp, besides my father and Charlie that I truly cared for. Since we had found her the girl had been attached to my hip, and as much as I tried to deny it, the little goof-ball was actually beginning to grow on me.

"Hey," I smiled warmly, stifling a yawn. "What time is it?"

Without warning the girl darted forward and attacked me with a bone crushing hug; one I often had the pleasure of receiving on a daily basis. But for some reason, this seemed different. It wasn't until I felt her soft whimpers in my shoulder that I even noticed she was crying. My eyes widened and I pulled the girl closer, fearing something had happened to her. "What is it?" I cooed gently into her frizzy hair. The girl didn't answer right away. She merely sobbed whilst I rubbed her back with a frown. "Paige?" I croaked.

She abruptly pulled away, a deep frown etched just above her small brow.

"Charlie told the others what happened." She stated simply, though there was an underlying touch of distress there. It took me a moment to realise what she was talking about, and inwardly I cringed. "He told us you were attacked," she continued in her deep southern drawl. "Poppa Hank is calling a meeting together now."

I stared at the girl in silence, slowly registering her words. "Paige I–"

"–Was it true you went into the woods alone? That's what Charlie said." Curiosity burned through her bright blue eyes and she waited expectantly for my response. We were sitting at the edge of our beddings now, sheets thrown to one side and what little luggage we had, on the other.

The day we had found Paige wandering the streets alone, my heart constricted at the sight of her defeated figure, tears rushing from her eyes, calling desperately for her mother. The girl had been hesitant at first, eyeing my father with cautious eyes. But when she spotted me standing off to the side, her timid steps suddenly paced forward and she was by my side in an instant.

From that day on the ten year old had been my charge.

Attempting a small smile, I drew her tiny paws into mine and squeezed. "Darling girl," the pet name relaxed her slightly and the curious frown dimmed. "I know what Charlie said must have frightened you, but do not think on it. Not even for one second. I'm here, I'm safe."

The girl sighed before nodding and pulled her hands from mine so that she could hug me once more. "I was so worried," she whispered.

This time, I returned the sentiment, holding the little girl in my arms closely for what seemed like an eternity, before I finally settled her tiny frame on our beddings, informing her that I would return soon.

_I had to find my father._

Zipping up the tent flap behind me, I cautiously made my way to the headquarters.

The stares were unforgiving.

They followed me across the clearing, watching the humiliation seep through me with every step. I tried to ignore their stares as best I could, and kept my head low. But as much as I tried I couldn't fight the intensity of what was about to happen.

_Somehow I just knew the old man would be furious. _

As I approached a familiar voice drifted to me and I swallowed, stepping through the doorway cautiously. His eyes found me first, and I quivered in fear.

"Come in," he commanded, after a long pause.

Without an upwards glance, I moved to the only three chairs available in the centre of the room. My father's tent was vast, but no one expected anything less, he was a hunter after all, and had insisted that buying a twenty-man tent would benefit us all–_little did we know, it actually would._

The pavilion was the basis of our camp, or 'headquarters', as most in the group liked to call it. People often mulled in and out of the main area where tables were lined along the sides and maps of the area, along with an assortment of other things, scattered across its surfaces. On the left hand side stood the camp's hoard of weapons. My father and Charlie had collected them along the way, but most, if not all, belonged to my father.

I immediately took the seat on the right, putting the most distance between me and the leader. He was bent over a table, reading something with one of the other men from the group, their voices low as they discussed something I couldn't quite hear.

From my new vocation, I took the time to study the old man.

He was so like Charlie in every way, tall, strong and handsome. Usually the thought would make me smile, but now as I gazed across at the old man before me, I saw no trace of his past self.

It pained me to be reminded of this. To be reminded that the two men in my life were slowly beginning to develop into apathetic soldiers. It shouldn't have been surprising considering they were both marines, but it still hurt to bear witness. I recoiled further into my seat and sighed.

_They weren't what they used to be._

A few moments passed before the man my father conversed with, swiftly departed his company and nodded once in my direction on his way out.

My father didn't approach right away, he only stood there staring. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I was too afraid to meet his gaze, instead focusing on my hands scrunched together in scarlet fists.

Footsteps approached then and suddenly his hands were in mine.

"Em," he began cautiously. I winced at the pet-name, memories slowly unfolding of my mother and father, before Charlie was born, and the world had gone to shit. It felt like so long ago now. I hesitantly met my father's gaze, a small whimper escaping.

"Daddy I–"

"–What were you thinking?" His tone was soft but his eyes, dark and full, narrowed as if regarding an errant child. In that moment, I probably was. He bore into me, guarded and serious as I struggled with tears threatening to unleash.

Everything dawned on me at once.

The corpse, my brother, this life, my broken family, it was _all_ so fucked up. And now I couldn't hold back.

The tears flowed freely, my eyes tinged red as they ran sticky tracks down the curve of my cheeks. I didn't stop though, heaving forward suddenly and resting my head on my father's knees, like I had when I was just a child. I hugged myself, bringing my arms up around my shoulders and trying desperately to vanquish the agonizing pain.

Death had been but a distant thought my ignorant self cared nothing for.

Though it was present in the constant swarm of corpses that hungered for our flesh, I had never considered my own death amongst this new, nightmarish reality.

A hand reached forward then and gently rubbed the small of my back. It brought more tears to my eyes, though not of despair, but of happy memories; as it was something my mother would always do.

I counted to sixty before the tears slowed and I sniffed, sitting up. My father regarded me a moment before abruptly getting to his feet and returning moments later with a box of tissues in hand– _how very like the old man to have a box of tissues lying about._

"Thanks," I sniffed and took three. When he settled on his seat beside me once more, I smiled weakly up at him through wet lashes. "I'm sorry for what happened dad." The apology was out before I had time to process it.

_What exactly was I sorry for?_

Crying in front of him was something I had done ever since I was a child, so it shouldn't have felt any different, let alone requiring an apology. Was I therefore sorry that Charlie had risked his life to save my own? In some ways I was. Charlie didn't have to save me, but he did, so how was I to feel sorry for that. I felt rather content with dying; he didn't have to risk his life to save me.

_And that was when I realised._

I wasn't sorry for putting my brother in danger, nor was I sorry that I was embarrassing myself currently. It wasn't even the fact that I hadn't taken anybody with me.

No, I was sorry that I had given up on my life, and I could see deep in my father's eyes that he burned to know if that had been the case.

He watched me silently for a moment longer before nodding slowly and reaching forward to grab my hands again. "I understand," his tone was firm, but somehow managed to remain calm. "This world is different from what we once shared in; cruel and indifferent, able to turn even the kindest of hearts to that of stone."

I tightened my jaw at his words, lifting the tissue to my nose and blowing noisily into it. _Very lady-like Emma, _I scolded_. _"Do you think it will ever be the same daddy?"

The old man pondered over my question for a while, his brows furrowed. There was a calm silence that followed before my father spoke again. This time however, his steady gaze took on a graver focus and I could tell the mild conversation was over.

"I do not want you to go into the woods alone Emma. It's not safe" His tone was sharp, precise, the voice he reserved whilst talking to the group. This was not the man who had raised me for the past thirty two years. "Don't ever do it again," he finished quietly, but I could feel the growing tension behind the simple request.

I nodded once.

* * *

"Are we there yet?"

We had been riding in silence; Daryl had refrained from talking full stop. The only sound had been the distant hum of the car engine as it swiftly weaved around corners and bends. Feeling fed up with the silence, but more at the fact that I was wearing a stupid blindfold, I waited patiently for the man beside me to answer my earlier question. _No reply._

I sighed and leant against the car door. "Fine, ignore me then." _Still no reply_.

"Can we at least listen to music or something?" _Nothing. _

Alright, it looked like Bitchy Morgan would have to make an appearance.

"You know I never pegged you as a follower," I said after a moment of silence. Daryl continued ignoring me, but I hadn't expected him to acknowledge my retort and so prattled on with my observation. "The whole stubborn attitude seemed a dead giveaway. I mean here I was thinking you were a solo act, Mr. I don't give a fuck, but it turns out you're actually a little sheep." I laughed.

"What ya talkin' bout' girl?" He growled, frustrated by the sounds of it. _Success_.

I shrugged, hiding a smirk at accomplishing conversation. "Just wondering why you take orders from a man like Rick."

A moment of tense silence followed as the man processed my words. I wondered how much it would take to piss Daryl off completely, and decided then; it wouldn't take that much at all.

When it seemed hours had passed, the arrow-man sighed deeply. "Ya don't know what ya sayin'," he growled.

I scoffed at the blatant down play, probing him further. "It's pretty obvious the type of man he is Ace. I mean who does that, says that he'll let me go and then go through this big ordeal, trying to take it all back."

At first the entire conversation felt a little silly to be having, especially since I was wearing a blindfold. But somehow, it had turned interesting and I actually wanted to know what Daryl's thoughts were. _Why did any of them follow Rick_?

"Ya don't know what ya sayin' girl," the man beside me mumbled.

I smirked attempting a light-hearted brush off. "Well I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings Ace, didn't realize you were such a fan."

The car slowed a little.

I had obviously succeeded in pushing the man to his limits and cringed inwardly, praying that my haughty responses hadn't earned me a one-way ticket to the curb.

"Ya got it all wrong," Daryl's voice suddenly whispered. "Rick's dun' more for our group than anyone else, he's only concerned for the group. S'why he was so anxious bout' lettin' ya go."

The declaration startled me.

It was clear the arrow-man regarded his leader highly. But it was anything far from petty love and adoration, like I had joked before. There was something else, an understanding, perhaps. Almost as if the two had long established their solidarity.

I frowned, thinking over my recent introduction to the leader. Perhaps I had been too quick to judge the man.

_But If I ever catch sight of you anywhere, near this prison, or if I find out what you told us was a lie. I won't hesitate to kill you._

No, I narrowed my eyes. I had not misjudged him. Not even in the slightest.

"Guess I just have a habit of not liking people who threaten me," the words slipped out before I had time to process them, and mentally I kicked myself. I wasn't exactly in a position to be giving an opinion about the leader of the guy who was helping me.

_Should have thought of that before huh, Emma?_

Beside me Daryl grunted once. "So ya think he's a bad man?"

"That's not what I'm saying," I said calmly. The last thing I wanted was to be having an argument with the arrow-man. _Play it cool Emma_. "He just doesn't seem like the type of guy I'd be willing to follow."

Daryl didn't say anything at first, but after a moment he grunted and the car swerved a little. "Ya know somewun' better?"

I shrugged indifferently. "My father," the words were out before I could stop them and I quickly turned away, bringing a hand to my mouth.

_Shit, what the hell was wrong with me?_

"Ya father?" Daryl frowned. "What makes ya say that?"

I breathed hesitantly. _You've done it now Emma._ "He was just...Someone people trusted."

"The group trust Rick." Daryl grunted in reply. But I could hear a faint hesitation in the man's voice.

"Do _you_?" I cut in before he could finish his thoughts.

The conversation had unintentionally taken a serious turn. I wasn't taunting him anymore. The fact of the matter was; Rick didn't seem fit enough to be their leader, in my opinion anyway. But something told me that Daryl was thinking along the same lines, though I knew the man would never admit it.

I could tell my question had left him in a state, as was evident in the silence that followed. Fearing the arrogant judgment wouldn't play well to my current standing, Daryl suddenly cleared his throat and thankfully silenced my raging thoughts. "I trust Rick with ma life," he whispered.

I nodded slowly at the assertion, hiding my surprise with indifference. I'd had enough of taunting the driver, and instead tilted my head back against the seat, drinking in the newfound information.

Silence was met and I quietly counted how long it would take for the tension to diffuse. _Probably when your ass is out of the car_, I mentally rolled my eyes.

After a while, the driver cleared his throat to get my attention once more. "So ya father, he a good man?" Daryl asked; a lilt of curiosity to his usual growl.

_Shit._

I squeezed my eyes tight as the man beside me waited. _This was not good._

"Yes," I sighed.

Daryl hummed thoughtfully. "Why's that?"

_Should I tell him?_

I hadn't disclosed any personal information to anyone, _ever_. Sure I had met people along the way who would ask me of my life before the outbreak. It was a common occurrence with humans; everyone wanted to know something about the other, especially in apocalyptic days. But I could only give them the scripted version, as I liked to put it. Delving into my past was something I hated above all things. And quite frankly I saw it as a weakness. If someone were to uncover secrets about my life before the outbreak, they would have something over me. I was different, weaker than I am now. Gone was the sad, push-over that everyone constantly joked wouldn't survive a day without her father and brother. No one gave me the time of day, and the insecurity had built over the years. But everything had changed now. I wasn't the same pathetic woman I was eight months ago. No, I was someone new.

With a sigh I tilted my head slightly in the driver's direction, and I was glad I wouldn't have to see the man's reaction.

"He was a marine," I whispered. "Ever since I was a little girl I could remember him leaving and then returning months later. Still the same burly man he always was," I smiled slightly as my mind wandered back, conjuring an image of my father's joyful returns to the home. "When the outbreak occurred and we lost my mother, the old man took a lot of people in. I think... I think he felt the need to save as many people as he could... After mom's death, he...he wasn't the same. None of us were." I broke off, turning my head slightly before continuing. "They all respected him, the group...Not just because he was a marine or anything, no... I think it was because he trusted them as much as they trusted him. Everyone felt _safe _with him." My voice trailed off thinking back to one of the last moments I'd shared with my father.

_"I don't want you to go into the woods alone Emma. It's not safe" His tone was sharp, precise, the voice he reserved whilst talking to the group. This was not the man who had raised me for the past thirty one years. "Don't ever do it again," he finished quietly, but I could feel the growing tension behind the simple request. _

Nothing was said for a few moments, and I knew Daryl was thinking over my words carefully before responding. "_Marines_?" He finally said, dropping his usual grunt; an essence of a smirk lingering there.

I nodded, as the corners of my mouth lifted. "Twenty five years."

The man grunted his amusement. "What bout' ya brother?"

The question brought me up short and I tensed suddenly, feeling my chest tighten. "Him too," I answered timidly. "Nine years."

A slight nervousness followed and I knew Daryl could sense it. I wasn't exactly being subtle about my uneasiness, but thankfully he didn't probe me further. I took the man's silence as my opportunity to steer the conversation far away from me.

"What about _your_ family, where are they now?"

Beside me the man coughed, and I could picture the practiced frown masking his features instinctively, or _protectively_, I still wasn't sure.

"My brother was with us in the beginning," he growled. The car shifted slightly, and I could sense the man shuffling with nerves. "Was a complication in _Atlanta_. He got left behin'."

I gasped. "Really?"

"Group was bigger then," he mumbled. "Went on a run, Merle was bein n' ass. Almost got them killed," Daryl paused for a long moment before continuing. "Rick cuffed him to a roof."

_Well shit. _

I tried not to show my surprise, but couldn't contain myself. "_You left him_?" My tone was darker than I had intended and I could only imagine Daryl raising his brows questioningly_. It wasn't my fault_. The statement reminded me too much of Charlie and our final moments together.

Daryl sighed deeply. "Went' back for him. But he...he was gon'." I gasped. "Couldn' find him after that." The arrow-man grumbled; his voice distant as he no doubt replayed the moment in his head. I knew then that the conversation was over.

Absently I thought of Charlie.

His goofy smile came to mind, followed almost immediately by an image of his strong figure sprinting into the darkness, and leaving me behind. I squeezed my eyes tight, swallowing back tears; as a flow of memories rushed forth.

_People were falling at every turn, gun shots rang out through the forest and lights blared from different directions. Briefly, I remembered sprinting into the darkness, trying to keep up with my brother in front of me. We were close, we were going to survive, and then I fell. My leg twisted and I could feel the sprain pinching up the side of my ankle. I was calling out, I was yelling for Charlie to stop._

"Why'd ya do it?" Daryl's voice cut in, breaking through the inner struggle I was experiencing.

I didn't answer right away, my mind working to understand what the man was referring to. The silence extended and after a moment, I turned to him with understanding. "Does nobody trust the fact that I saved your lives because it was the right thing to do?" I scoffed, sulking back into my seat and wincing slightly at the pain that it caused in my stomach.

"Guess it's a lil' hard ta b'lieve," the man mumbled though there was hint of a smile at the end of his words.

"Well it's the truth Ace. I had no ulterior motives."

Beside me, Daryl hummed thoughtfully for a moment. "_Ace_?" He finally grumbled and I couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah," I grinned. "You know, like 'Ace Shooter'," and I motioned his firing stance with my arms, pretending to be holding his crossbow.

The answering chuckle surprised me and I smiled at the sound.

"Ya know when I first saw ya," he began. "I thought you were sum kid tryna' help us out. Took me by surprise when we got closer and saw ya properly," he laughed quietly again, surprising me with how un-forced and decidedly how un-like _'Daryl'_ it was.

"You thought I was kid?" I laughed, which only furthered Daryl's amusement.

"Can' blame me, ya so small," he grunted, though not with malicious intent, it was almost playful. "Maybe I should start callin' ya '_kiddo' _or sumthin'_?_" He laughed at my look of disgust, and this time I found myself smiling, not smirking, but _smiling_ in return.

This was a completely different side of Daryl. Not the Macho companion I was used to. It was still obvious that he didn't trust me, but that wasn't to say that he didn't feel a little more gracious about what I had done for him, Maggie and Glenn that day.

I still hated him for what he did, but slowly I could understand his reasons.

As if reading my thoughts Daryl suddenly cleared his throat. "I still don't trust ya," he mumbled, though I suspected the threat was only half-hearted and I nodded my head to show that I was on the same level of understanding.

"Me either," I smirked and turned away.

I could imagine the faint smile playing on Daryl's lips and couldn't help but feel slightly content with our new-found compatibility. It was forgotten though when the arrow-man suddenly slammed on the breaks.

The car drifted slightly, on impulse, I grasped the door handle of the vehicle for support. Just then, a loud thud echoed through the car and I jumped at the sound.

"What the hell was that?" I croaked, as yet another thud banged through the car.

Beside me Daryl grunted, slamming on the brakes again and causing my body to suddenly lurch forward into the glove compartment. I hadn't been wearing my seat-belt so the impact was harsh against my arms, thankfully it did not cause further pain to my abdomen.

"The hell–" I prepared an insult, mostly directed at the driver, but was silenced when I felt his hands abruptly reach for the black material covering my eyes.

"Daryl, what the fuck are you–"

"–We got company," he growled, and I felt my insides shrivel with fear.

My eyes blinked as he roughly tugged the blindfold off and sunlight blared through the car. Taking a moment to adjust to the bright light, I blinked again and noticed the driver reaching for his crossbow in the backseat of the vehicle.

I tore my gaze from the man beside me, and looked out across the distance.

We were surrounded by corpses.

* * *

**A/N: Hi...Wow what a monster. Sorry about the little cliff hanger, guess you guys are going to have to tune in for the next installment.**

** First things first, a lot of things happening. I kind of felt the last chapter lacked a little on Rick's part, so I wanted to give him more light in this chapter. He's grouchy I know, but after everything that's happened, and with Emma's hot hotheadedness, I think it was only fair of him to question whether it was the right decision to let her go. What did you guys think of the whole exchange? **

**Also I kind of wanted to play a little on the other's opinion of Rick's actions, especially Maggie and Daryl. I know they don't really doubt him in the show, but because I'm writing Rick little more hostile in this story, I think the group will react differently towards him.**

**Emma is also going through some major emotional changes. She opens up a bit more about her true reasons for not joining another group or staying somewhere for too long...I wonder if Savannah has anything to do with that? ****Watch this space.**

**How are you guys liking the story so far? Is there something you want more or less of? Let me know, I love feedback, even if its just to chat walking dead.**

**AND SPEAKING OF THE WALKING DEAD!**

**Has anyone watched the mid-season finale? IT WAS INSANE! Loved every moment of it, what did you guys think of the finale? **

**Anyway my little rant is over... Thanks to all my followers, favorites and reviewers. You guys are AWESOME! :D**

**P.S I had to change the rating of the story to M as I felt my cussing was getting a bit...Yeah well you guys know! Also if you're wondering, the song at the beginning of the chapter is Mr Tambourine man by the great Bob Dylan. I don't know why, but every time I think of Emma's mum I always imagine her sitting in a wooden rocking chair out on the front porch, humming a Bob Dylan song as she watched the sun set. Beautiful.**

**AND, I re-edited the prologue so if you've been following the story, make sure you check it out! **

**OKAY for real this time, Rant over! :D Keep awesome!**


	5. Chapter 4

I stared in disbelief as corpses trampled forward.

There were hundreds of them. Decaying blood hung from open limbs and smeared across every facet of their beings. It trailed down the sides of their faces, textured scarlet that made them appear all the more savage. I swallowed back the bile that had risen in my throat, watching in horror as the group of corpses advanced towards our motionless vehicle. My heart beat faster with each forward step. _We had to get out of here._

I turned to the man beside me, gripping the side of the car door for support. "Why the _fuck_ aren't we moving?"

Daryl ignored my question, instead handing his crossbow to me with a harsh frown. "Hold this," he growled and focused solely on starting the car engine.

_It stalled._

He tried again, my breaths drawing sharper as I waited.

_It stalled again._

_"_C'mon," the man grunted, urging the key to start with a sharp twist of his wrist. Corpses drew nearer and I tensed as two beat hungrily at the sides of the car.

"Daryl," I whispered. The man still focused on trying to start the engine. Several more corpses appeared and this time I didn't hold back on my urgency. "DARRYL!" My voice echoed through the tiny space between us and the arrow-man abruptly ceased his incessant actions, turning to fix me with a frown.

My eyes were occupied however, on the six or so corpses gathered just outside the vehicle. Daryl growled in frustration and I absently felt the crossbow leave my shaking hands.

"Gonna' have ta make a run for it," his voice had lost its usual stiffness, and for the briefest of moments I could hear the dread behind his words. But it was only brief, and in a flash the instant was gone.

Noticing my lack of response, the man met my gaze with a deep scowl. We stared at each other in silence, thousands of emotions transpiring between us, and I was left startled when the man softened his harsh frown. His blue eyes pierced through mine and I couldn't help but feel the fear of our circumstances, decrease as I met his steady gaze.

_We were going to survive._

"Run into the line of trees," he pointed behind me and I turned to note our escape route. "I'll be right behind ya," he added with a glint behind his blue eyes.

Daryl eyed me closely for a moment longer, before hitching a bolt into his crossbow. I met his gaze once more, and with a convincing nod, turned to make our daring escape.

I pushed the passenger door hard against the body of a corpse, making my way past its fallen figure and preparing for the next. Two corpses lunged forward and I dodged the first with a side-step, but the other managed to reach for my shoulder. It made no further attempts however, as I kicked out, ramming the bloody figure hard in its knees, and watched as it staggered backwards from the blow.

The few Corpses that lingered near were easy enough to dodge, their bodies slow as they lunged toward me. Ignoring the pain in my stomach, I made my way forward, eyeing the line of trees Daryl had told me to run into.

A car door slammed shut from behind and the sound of Daryl's crossbow fired as he no doubt dispatched a nearby corpse, making his way around the silver vehicle. I glanced back and was met with a stern frown. Bashing a corpse with the heel of his boot, he swiftly re-loaded another bolt and motioned for me to move. I glanced at the hundreds of corpses still struggling forward, trying desperately to be rid of their decaying image.

Without another word I ran through the line of trees.

I charged forward, running deeper into the woods, not necessarily following an exact path. It didn't matter; my body had taken charge now. There was only one thing on my mind, _survival_. I had to make it out alive. I had to escape the corpses.

All the while I could feel the growing pain in my abdomen. It burned through every fibre of my being, working from my core, down each of my limbs and clenching at my chest. Strangely though, my body fed from the fire. Pain mixed with adrenaline, and I knew I was but a blip in the forest. I didn't stop, my legs propelled me forward and I thrashed through the grouping of trees, urging my body to keep moving.

_There was no way I could stop now._

I was almost at the top of the hill; no snarls or signs of corpses could be heard or seen. I knew I should have stopped, but I couldn't. The fear was still very present, and I had to keep moving. _I had to live. I had to survive._

Strong arms suddenly grasped my elbow and I was roughly pulled to a stop.

_A corpse._

I swiveled on my heel, ready to take the corpse down with one blow. Though I had no weapons, it didn't mean I would let the corpse take me down o easily. My fist connected with the side of its face and the corpse staggered backwards from the blow. But it wasn't a corpse.

_It was Daryl._

My eyes widened, and after a muffled gasp, I rushed forward, only to be shoved back by the man's strong arm. "The hell ya do that for?" He growled, his hand covering the part of his face I had just punched.

_Shit._

I was breathing harshly now. My brash stunt leaving me startled a moment. I stared up at the growing pink mark across his upper cheek, biting back insults for my stupidity. "I thought_..._I thought you were a _corpse_." My head was shaking as I studied the man. "Are you alright?"

He eyed me stoically for a moment, a mixture of anger and something else. I could tell he was less than impressed by my actions, but instead of arguing further, he bent to retrieve his weapon that had somehow fallen, and quickly paced ahead. He didn't go very far, and after a moment, I realised he was scouting for corpses.

Taking a moment to recover from my initial shock, I moved to trail after him. "What's the plan?" My tone was timid, fearing that it would only anger the man further.

_So much for our new-found understanding._

Daryl chewed the tip of his thumbnail, mind elsewhere at present. He paced at first, eyes wary, darting about the forest in a cautious manner. It reminded me of the first time we had met, and I had saved him and the others from corpses. He seemed just as agitated then as he was now.

I swallowed, watching intently for a moment before taking to lean against the side of a tree, my body caving from the physical exertion of our escape.

When Daryl finally stopped, he turned back to me with his standard frown, masking his rugged features. "It's too far ta go back to the prison," he grumbled, eyeing me closely. I straightened to give him my full attention. "Sides' I don' think Rick'll be too happy if I brin' ya back again," he narrowed his eyes and turned away as if hearing something in the distance. I followed his line of sight and saw nothing but the greenery that surrounded us. A moment later he looked away, frown ever-present. "If we leave now, we can make it to that town of yours. Rest for the night, and then I'll head back in the Mornin'."

A sudden thought occurred to me and I glanced up at the man with a curious frown. "Won't the others worry about you?"

Daryl was already nodding before I had finished, and shrugged. "Yeah, but ain't nothin' we can do bout' it now."

I listened to each word.

Daryl seemed adamant that our only hope for survival was to stick together, but sudden thoughts disputed the idea. There was no need for him to stay with me anymore. He could have easily just walked away and left me to my own devices. The likelihood of him surviving in the woods seemed more probable compared to my own, so I didn't have to worry about his safety. Sure, I had survived eight months alone, but in the face of our current situation it seemed my chances weren't as optimistic. I had no weapons. The town was distant, and I had no clue how to navigate my way back through the woods, even with my experience of hunting. If corpses suddenly emerged and I was surrounded, there would be no chance of escape, let alone survival. _But could I trust that the arrow-man would honor his decisions, and our new-found camaraderie?_

I turned to Daryl with a frown, trying to diminish the burning arguments in my head. He was quiet, arms folded tightly across his chest as he too watched me in deliberation.

_We thought alike._

He was no doubt trying to determine whether I could be trusted, as was expected. Though we had established a means of acquaintance with each other, endurance was vital; people didn't survive in these post-apocalyptic days with blind trust. _It was earned._

The way I saw it, I had two options.

One, I could bid the arrow-man farewell and somehow try to survive on my own. At least I wouldn't have to keep watching my back, fearing the man would turn on me. The corpses would be my only struggle.

Or two, I could stay with Daryl and attempt to establish some semblance of trust through our journey. This way we would both have a better chance at survival, _me _more than anything, and possibly escape the corpses.

_C'mon Emma, make up your damn mind._

I swallowed, meeting the man's heavy gaze. "Okay."

Daryl hitched his crossbow from around his shoulders, nodding to both accept my decision and also to reaffirm that everything would be alright. I braved a small smile in return and prepared to move, but paused when Daryl suddenly frowned at me, harsher than usual. I was about to ask what his problem was, until his eyes traveled from my own and pointedly glared at my stomach.

I started, looking down at my torso with a curious frown.

Blood seeped through my shirt.

I gasped, clasping the blue material tightly and pulling it up to reveal the wound beneath. The bandage was soaked through, red splotches coated the protective material and I wavered at the sight of blood clotted about in smears of scarlet.

_This was not what I needed right now._

Wordlessly I attempted to rip part of my shirt in the hopes of using it to secure the lesion, but paused when I realized it would only expose and damage it further.

_Shit._

A flash of red suddenly entered my vision, but this time it was not blood, it was a _bandanna_. I stared at the material in front of me, contemplating what to make of the recent development. From nowhere Daryl had produced a red bandanna, offering it to me with his standard frown. It was damaged, not exactly sanitary, but would do the job no less.

"Ya gonna take it?" His gruff voice startled me from my observations and I silently reached forward, grabbing the material with a nod of thanks to the arrow-man. I bent to tie the bandanna around my wound, noticing Daryl's perplexed gaze as he observed.

I could tell what he was thinking, it was clear in his eyes. I'd seen the look plenty of times before from others who swore I was too skinny for my own good. But it wasn't my fault the bandanna could easily tie around my torso – it was just big. _Or so that was what I told myself anyway._

Daryl, realizing his stance, suddenly turned on his heel and sauntered away, leaving me to deal with the wound. I watched him go, thanking the heavens that the situation wasn't as awkward as it could have been.

Once the bandanna was secured over my bandage, I trailed hesitantly over to the man, who had been keeping an eye on the forest line ahead. "After you Ace," I tried to appear indifferent as I knew he was still embarrassed about the whole being punched incident, but couldn't help a small smirk lift at the corners of my mouth when he avoided my gaze. Daryl only nodded, a faint look in his eye, before he trudged ahead with his crossbow at the ready.

Together we journeyed deeper into the forest.

* * *

I was livid.

After swiftly departing my father's company, I hurled my body towards the far side of camp, ignoring the questioning stares that followed. My eyes narrowed with determination as I strode past them, huffing at the fact that my short legs could only go so fast. I was searching for my brother, Charlie.

At the edge of the camp's clearing, I paused, eyeing the surroundings with a callous glare. Movement in the distance caught my eye and the soldier came into view.

He was on watch, rifle in hand, surveying the greenery ahead with his standard-issue scowl. Taking a moment to soak in the fit and broad appearance of my baby brother, I tensed and wordlessly moved forward, rage burning through me.

Charlie didn't have time to process my sudden appearance, let alone the glower very firmly in place above my brow. I glared at him as I approached, pausing a few feet away. "Why did you tell him?" My voice shook with bitterness, _not a typical Emma Morgan response._

Charlie backed immediately, hand clutching his weapon closer. The movement made me flinch, and I narrowed my eyes at the soldier. Fire swept through me as a hand burst forward and slapped him hard across the face.

I gasped upon contact, withdrawing my hand just as quickly as it had come, though my stance remained firm.

The soldier stood motionless.

He hadn't flinched when my hand connected with his face, though I doubt there had been much pressure to begin with. We stared at each other in silence, neither backing down. I could tell that Charlie was taken aback the outburst. His quiet, loner sister was_ finally_ standing up for herself, something he hadn't before.

Frowning at the silence I shook my head and narrowed my eyes. "Answer me."

Charlie continued his still stature, irritating me with each passing second. Finally he swallowed and turned his head away, though his body remained tense. "He deserved to know."

My eyes widened further. "WHAT?" I breathed. "How can you even say that?"

"It's the truth Em. It was the right thing to do."

I paused, soaking in his reasoning, before scowling at my brother. "Oh don't give me that '_it was the right thing to_ _do_' bullshit, Charlie. I know you only told him because of some incessant need to impress _the leader_."

His frown deepened. "You don't understand Em,"

"No, _you_ don't understand. Dad is furious with me," I spat, before stepping away as the sudden urge to hit something overwhelmed me.

_Calm down Emma._

There was a moment of silence before Charlie spoke again, his voice gruff, almost flippant. "Well maybe you should have thought about that before going off into the woods alone."

My mouth dropped.

Swiveling on my heel to face him, I stared in disbelief as Charlie only furthered his resolve with a firm nod.

"You should have told somebody," he continued at my silence, and my eyes only narrowed further. "You know the rules Em–"

"–_Rules_?" I breathed, stepping closer to the soldier. "What the hell do you think this is some kind of army base or something?" The words were meant out of spite, but I could tell that they truly affected my brother as his eyes narrowed to slits.

"That's exactly what it is Emma!" He breathed, and the sudden eeriness that had surrounded us before, was lost. "Dad is trying to protect everyone here. But how can he do that when his own daughter doesn't give a damn about her safety. We're trying to keep these people alive Em. There are rules and plans in place for a reason–"

"WE AREN'T SOLDIERS, CHARLIE!" I screamed.

In all my years I had never once had an argument with my brother the likes of this. Sure we fought like any normal siblings would, but never had it escalated to such a heartbreaking point.

_This was someone else._

"You've changed," I croaked. The wind picked up around us, sending my dark locks in a cascade around my face. "You're not my brother anymore."

And with that, I left.

* * *

It was oddly peaceful in the wake of our recent turmoil. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to be in a forest. Even before the outbreak, the woods that surrounded our family home had been as vibrant and vast as the one I was currently traipsing through.

Memories flowed, beginning, as always with an image of my father, often venturing into the green unknown on one of our many adventures. My childhood years had seen more action than most; I was always outside, sometimes feeling as if the forest called me to her.

But of them all, only one memory could compare to my current position.

The sounds of horrifying screams invaded my thoughts and images of our New Orleans camp, under attack by shadows of the night, soon followed.

_Everything had happened so fast. One moment the group was enjoying a late night meal under the stars, listening as we each told tales of lives spent before the outbreak, and the next we were under attack. It was horrifying. People were falling at every turn, gun shots rang out through the forest and lights blared from different directions._

It wasn't the want and need of survival, nor was it the heartache at losing so many people that seemed resilient as I traipsed through the forest. No, it was the constant fear that loomed with every step I took. Fear that any moment would be my last.

We'd been walking for hours, the arrow-man ahead by a few paces, though I put that down to his long, determined strides. He was most definitely a hunter; it was obvious in the way he moved, similar to my father. Even the smallest of motions were delicate yet precise; he seemed to know the woods like the back of his hand.

I smiled at the thought.

As the sun dimmed behind the tallest trees, the forest line began to thin ahead, and Daryl slowed to match my sluggish pace.

"Town's up head," he muttered, glancing down at my weakened form with raised brows. I nodded at the man, refusing to show the pain my wound was causing. I didn't want to be pitied by him, or any person. I'd made it eight months on my own, and I wasn't about to go crying over a little blood.

We paused at the edge of the forest line, crouching behind the shrubbery there. I quickly regaled to Daryl the outline of the town. We were on the Eastern side, and the offices would be found two streets over. It wasn't set in stone, but I knew our best chances of survival would be in the office building. Daryl nodded once I had finished my tale, and suddenly reached into his back pocket, pulling out a knife.

"Know how ta use it?" The arrow-man frowned.

I rolled my eyes in response and retrieved the weapon. _Of course I know how to use a fucking knife. _A hint of a smile played at the man's lips, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, his standard frown in place one more.

Keeping low, as per Daryl's orders, we swiftly moved through the quiet streets watching for any movement from the shadows of buildings surrounding us. It was getting dark; I guessed we had only twenty minutes of sunlight left before the streets would be drowned in darkness. Thankfully, the town was deserted, save for the few ransacked vehicles and mounds of rubbish littered across the distance. When I had first arrived, the sight had left me feeling more alone in the world, than ever. Now, it looked like paradise.

We inched forward, keeping low as the arrow-man led the way with his trusted crossbow. It wasn't long before we arrived at the alley, opening out onto the main street. I could see the office building up ahead, it was one of the tallest in the town, and easy to spot from our slow approach down the darkened alleyway.

Daryl paused at the lip of the passage, crouching behind a discarded workbench whilst I moved to the wall opposite, hidden beneath the shadow of a nearby vehicle. We stared out across the street and I couldn't help but smile at the familiar glass doors of the office buildings. There was only _one_ little problem.

Well actually there were several.

Five corpses mulled about the street, staggering in their numbers. I grunted my annoyance, turning to see that Daryl was also aggravated by the sight of them.

_Could we not catch a break?_

Absently, I was aware of the lowering sun, casting the street into a surge of bluish darkness. Pretty soon we would have to make a decision on our advance, and I could tell that Daryl was thinking along the same lines. He tightened his grip on the weapon in his hands and I nodded my resolve, retrieving the silver knife he had given me, from my pocket.

I wasn't going to lie. Together, Daryl and I were _badass_.

Making short work of the two corpses closest to us, Daryl fired his arrow bolt into the first corpse with fierce precision. I silently moved toward the corpse on my far left. It had no idea I was coming and soon the pointed edge of my knife rammed into its skull and the corpse fell to the ground with a thud. Daryl was already loading his crossbow with another bolt and in a matter of seconds we had dispatched the remaining three corpses.

_Didn't even break a sweat._

I smirked at the man beside me, delighting in the surprise behind his blue eyes. He still underestimated me of course; it was a natural response from most people. So I couldn't be bothered fixing the arrow-man with a glare. Rolling my eyes instead, I wiped the blade of my knife on the shirt of a nearby corpse and from my new position, crouched low, something glimmered in the distance.

_My axe_.

A smile suddenly graced my lips and I jumped excitedly to my feet, forgetting the pain in my stomach, and ignoring the arrow-man's raised brows. I rushed forward, bending gleefully to retrieve the bloodied weapon.

It felt good in my hands.

Daryl cautiously made his way over and frowned when he noticed how eagerly I grasped the weapon.

"Thanks for the knife Ace," I began and returned his silver blade with a knowing smirk. Daryl sent his gaze heavenwards and tucked the knife into his side pocket.

"We should get 'nside," he mumbled, before turning to the glass doors.

Everything was as it had been before our rather sudden departure, two days ago.

I couldn't deny the ecstatic grin on my face as I glanced at the mound of bodies to the right and familiar stairs leading up to the rest of the office buildings. _This was home._

"Guess we should check for more corpses," I nodded for Daryl to follow, and together we timidly approached the rest of the building, scouring for any corpses with our trusted weapons.

The halls were deserted.

Nothing made a move to attack and soon we had cleared the first floor. I relaxed slightly, meeting Daryl's gaze. After informing him that I had barricaded the rest of the building when I first arrived, we made our way towards my make-shift room, our recent travels beginning to take its toll on my slight frame.

I opened the door slowly at first, still wary of the possibility that corpses lingered about. But nothing attacked. It was the same, slightly dull room it had been for the past few weeks. I calmed, sweeping in with a deep sigh. Glancing about to make sure everything was in order, I never believed such a mundane setting would bring me so much joy. _But it did_.

Footsteps from behind reminded me of my new company and I turned to smirk at the arrow-man, his signature frown never far away. "All clear Ace," I shrugged into the nearest seat, feeling a little depleted.

Daryl was hesitant at first, turning to cast his harsh glare down the hall for a moment, before he finally gave in and locked the oak door firmly in place. He slumped into the sofa his friends had only occupied days before; a moment of relief washing over the man.

I studied the man from my seat beside the desk.

His personality was hard to figure.

At first I had him pegged as an arrogant, good-for-nothing redneck, who's only purpose in life was to strut around being pissed off at everything and everyone. But in the wake of our recent escape, Daryl had transformed before my eyes, whether he consciously knew that he was doing it or not. I had seen many versions of the man today, from cautious, to firm. They seemed never-ending. But secretly, I liked it that way, never knowing what would come next.

The arrow-man frowned upon noticing my studious observation, and I quickly glanced away, my cheeks burning red. "What?" He slurred, but I ignored him, getting to my feet and retrieving from the nearest cupboard, two tins of canned fruit. I handed Daryl the other, smirking at his curious frown and reclaimed my seat across from him.

"The pharmacy was loaded with tinned peaches, of all things," I said as Daryl studied the silver container warily, turning it in his hands "It's the only food I've found so far," he raised his brows but I only shrugged.

"Ever try' eatin' squirrel?" Daryl asked after a long pause. He smirked when I fixed him a look of disgust, and continued after a pause."My brotha' and I would have least' two a day. Bes' meal if ya ask me, 'specially now days," he hummed thoughtfully.

"I can imagine the taste is something to be acquired," sending my eyes heavenward.

Daryl smiled faintly at my observation, but it was covered beneath hard eyes. "Don' knock it till ya try it, girl."

We sat in comfortable silence then, eating the rest of our food and pondering distant thoughts.

I couldn't help but wonder back to earlier in the day, when the corpses had surrounded us. It was the most dreadful experience I had endured since New Orleans. The aftershocks still echoed through me, slowly, as if my mind wouldn't allow me to forget what had happened.

Shifting in my seat, I accidentally ruffled the side of my blue shirt. Pain instantly shot through my abdomen upon the contact, and I drew in a sharp breath, wincing at the overwhelming sensation.

_My wound._

Reaching for the bandanna beneath my shirt, I winced again as the ache traveled further down the side of my body. There was no adrenaline to help numb the pain and now, with a fresh wave of blood seeping through my blue shirt, it was almost unbearable.

Noticing my sudden tremor, Daryl frowned at me in confusion, until his heavy gaze fell to my side and understanding hit. Without a word the man was on his feet, crossing the room in three long strides. I was about inquire what the man was doing, but was hushed when he stood by my side moments later, an abundance of supplies in hand.

I stammered, still at a loss for words over the arrow-man's sudden actions. He shrugged, placing the items beside me before returning to his seat. My eyes followed his purposeful march in wonder.

_He was indeed, very strange._

Untying the bandanna from around my torso, I placed the soaked rag beside me and gently removed the protective bandage from the lesion. Ignoring the pain, I quickly got to work cleaning around the wound. All the while I could feel Daryl's gaze on me, watching as I made short work of retrieving a new bandage from the supply bag.

With the protective material in place, I lowered my shirt once more and settled into the seat with a sigh. Daryl had taken to standing in the doorway at some point, and I gazed over at him, arms folded, lean figure resting against the side of the wall. His frown was, as ever, harsh and full.

"Thank you," I whispered suddenly. _Tonight seemed to be filled with sappy gratitude_. The man straightened, blue eyes hard as he gazed across at me. "For everything," I continued, ignoring the nerves welling in the pit of my stomach. "You didn't have to help me."

Daryl grunted, unwavering in his stoic stance. "Ya ain't gotta thank me," he said after a long pause.

"No, but I want to." My eyes met his and I could tell the man was a little surprised by my approach, though his frown still remained. "That was a _whole _lot of mess we got into. And not just anyone would have stayed. So I mean it, _thank you_."

The arrow-man nodded once, not seeming to acknowledge the words fully. _He obviously didn't know how to take a compliment_. "Guess I have ta _thank_ ya too," the man grumbled and at my frown he sighed, stepping away from the entrance. "Ya could've run off. But ya didn't."

"Yeah well maybe I just felt sorry for punching you in the face," I smirked, trying for a lighthearted slam, but the arrow-man's face contorted suddenly and the smirk slowly faded from my lips.

He wasn't angry like I had expected him to be, though his frown took on a mild harshness. No, there was something else that flashed behind the man's eyes, something that was different from all the other signature-looks. It was brief, I would have missed it had I not been paying attention, but there was no denying that it was there. _Guilt._

_CRASH!_

The piercing sound of a window shattering suddenly echoed from below, silencing any further conversation. My eyes met Daryl's frown, a mixture of emotions flowing between us.

_What the hell was that?_

Without another thought I jumped to my feet, glancing down at the street below whilst Daryl reached for his crossbow. Nothing was out of place. Everything was as it should arrow-man was by my side in an instant, rubbing my shoulder with his, as he too stared down at the street with an equal look of confusion.

_Something wasn't right._

I turned to the man beside me. "What do you–?"

_BANG!_

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the hallway, thrumming noisily against the oak door. My heart leapt into my throat and I wavered slightly as fear, from earlier in the day, hit me square in the chest.

_There were hundreds of them. Decaying blood hung from open limbs and smeared across every facet of their beings. It trailed down the sides of their faces, textured scarlet that made them appear all the more savage._

My hands shook and I tried desperately to swallow my cowardly thoughts. _This isn't the time to pussy out Emma_, I scolded. Shaking my head to be rid of bloodied images, I swallowed and prepared to move.

A strong hand halted my brash attempts, as it grasped my elbow and roughly pulled me to a stop. Daryl was glaring; one hand clutched his crossbow whilst the other still remained transfixed to the crook of my arm.

_Stay, _his scowl seemed to pronounce.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him he was being a fucking idiot, but it seemed the arrow-man had already made his mind up, and I watched helplessly as he paced from my side. Without a backwards glance, Daryl disappeared through the doorway and cautiously made his way down the darkened corridor.

I strained to listen, but even my heightened senses didn't give me anything. It was torture, waiting, hoping and praying nothing would happen to the arrow-man. Although we still did not trust each other, the man _had_ saved my life today. And the more that I thought about it, the more I decided that he had also saved my life two days ago. He could have left me. The others could have driven away, and left me to die. But they hadn't. And now I was in debt to him, _to them_.

My heart beat a little faster as each second ticked by. It felt like hours had passed already, but I knew that it hadn't been that long.

I paused as the distinct sound of footsteps approached.

Without thinking I quickly cut across the room and grasped my bloodied axe in hand. I turned just in time to see the oak door open wide and Daryl paced into the room, crossbow slung over his shoulder. I was surprised by the sudden relief that washed through me, and made a move to greet the man with a hesitant smile.

But movement from behind the man stopped me.

She was covered in blood. Blonde hair drenched in sweat and matted to the sides of her slim face. She wasn't any younger than me, perhaps only by a few years. Her clothes were smeared with a mixture of dirt and blood, hanging from her lean form, like she hadn't eaten for weeks. On her hip, a black holster held her silver and black gun. Bright blue eyes locked with mine, and for a moment I could see the surprise in them.

_No. Fucking. Way._

"Emma this is–"

"–Andrea," I finished, registering Daryl's astonishment.

The woman across from me smirked and shook her head in disbelief. "Nice to see you again, Morgan."

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys, how do you like my speedy update? I know most of you wanted me to update FAST, so here it is, hope you enjoy!**

**WOW**

**A LOT of things happening in this chapter. Daryl and Emma narrowly escape the corpses. I guess it was a little harsh that she punched him, but you know it was a spur of the moment thing. Can't blame the poor girl. **

**One of the major things in this chapter is the little cliff hanger at the end. How the heck does Emma know Andrea? Hmmm, it was something that I wanted to play a bit on, to see if it works. Although I can't tell you how they know each other just yet, I can tell you some interesting dynamics will come into play in the next couple of chapters.**

**Sorry about the little fluff between Daryl and Emma. The next couple of chapters are going to be****_ full speed ahead_****, so I wanted them to establish some means of familiarity before all that happened. I have a ton of ideas where they are concerned. I don't want to drag their whole thing out completely, but like with most things, it gets better in time. **

**What about that heated argument with Charlie? Wow. It was actually the first thing I wrote in this chapter, I think my own arguments with siblings are evident there. Though hardly as powerful as theirs. I wanted to slowly unravel bits of story behind Emma's old group (New Orleans), as it comes into play later on in the story, so hopefully you guys like it. **

**Lastly, thanks to all my reviewers, followers and favorites, you guys honestly make my day. And every comment makes me write faster, so don't feel shy to leave a quick comment on your thoughts. I absolutely love reading them!**

**Stay awesome all you FF readers... ;)**

_(Hey guys, so I've just re-edited this whole chapter. SORRY! But after reading through it, I realized there are moments that I didn't like and because I'm so fussy, I had to re-edit. Most of it is the same, I think the ending is the only major change...The little fluff moments between Daryl and Emma have unfortunately been deleted. :( But don't worry it will come, I think it just needs a little/lot more to develop and blossom. SO yeah I hope you guys enjoy the new update... If you think it still needs a few tweaks let me know! Stay awesome) _


	6. Chapter 6

Music played wildly into the night, blasting from large speakers at the edge of the dance floor. A swarm of college freshman's partied together under the starry night, pressed closely as sweat mixed with alcohol creating an unpleasant odour in the air. To the left of the make-shift dance floor which occupied the centre of the fraternity's backyard, couples _coupled_ in the darkest corners of the surrounding tree line. Few people loitered near, most too intoxicated to even realise the raging hormones surrounding them. At the far right of the dance floor, furniture was scattered everywhere, upturned and thrown in just about every way possible, and hundreds of college students weaved throughout in an array of colourful fabrics.

I hated college parties_._

Traipsing through the crowd, I swiftly manoeuvred my slight frame through the sea of gyrating bodies, determined to see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I muttered half-hearted apologies along the way, brushing up against people without a second thought. No one paid me any mind. Although it was my second year in college, I wasn't really known and could easily slip through the horde of people without being noticed. Not that I cared. The only reason I had even attended the futile party was to silence my roommate's constant begging. She had ditched me at the first guy who paid her any attention, but I smiled and bade her leave nonetheless, seeing my opportunity to leave.

After effectively trampling through most of the crowd, I noticed the number of people begin to lessen as I squeezed pass. I was getting closer. The prospect of being home, comfortable in bed, excited me more than it should of, but I shrugged after a moment, pretending not to care. It was whilst pulling myself through the last bit of people that I suddenly stumbled on the stupid heels my roommate had forced me to wear. My hand lurched forward, grasping for anything to keep my face from meeting the pavement. Unfortunately it was someone's arm that I unintentionally reached for– an arm that just so happened to be clutching a very large glass of alcohol.

The amber liquid painfully sloshed onto the white dress of my saviour, staining it instantly. I gasped and jumped backwards, watching the growing shock and revelation register with the girl. It was closely followed by a rather loud and rather _piercing_ scream, echoing through the backyard of the fraternity. Everyone surrounding us stilled at once.

"YOU BITCH!" The girl squealed. She was tall and bulgy with makeup piled on. My eyes widened and I quickly stammered out an apology, but the girl was hearing none of it. Her round face flushed a heated crimson with embarrassment. "YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!"

"N-n-no, I swear. I'm s-s-so sorry," I stammered_. _

People had gathered around us in a small circle, most giggling at the startled look on my face, and the ghost-white sheen my skin had turned. Two girls stood behind their feisty leader, serving equal looks of disgust. It was enough to leave me quaking at the knees.

"Oh come off it Lisa," a loud voice called from behind. The girl in front of me had opened her mouth to no doubt spit out a nasty insult when a new voice brusquely interrupted. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a figure break away from the crowd sashaying forward and joining the fray with a casual flip of her blonde hair. "The girl said she was sorry. Now why don't we all just forget what happened and enjoy the party?"

I wanted to turn and get a better look of my apparent liberator, but my eyes were locked straight ahead. There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that wasn't right. I didn't trust that these girls would just _walk away_. They didn't seem like the type.

The girl named Lisa narrowed her eyes to slits, not looking at me anymore, instead sizing up my new 'friend' with a careless smirk. "Are you her guard dog or something, Wright?" Lisa sneered earning a round of laughter from her loyal cohorts. The crowd leaned forward in anticipation, feeding from the growing tension. If the blonde was fazed, she didn't show it. Her slim arms crossed over the small of her chest in a very calculating move, looking the picture of a true badass. I stood in awe.

"No," she began. Strolling forward with all the confidence in the world, she paused only inches away from the girl's bulgy face and smirked. Her stance said it all. "But try me, and I _just_ might bite."

The crowd was tensed now, waiting breathlessly to see who would make the first move. I was just as anxious, eyes darting between the pair, absently counting at the back of my mind. At the thirtieth Mississippi Lisa finally made a move, but fortunately it was not a violent one. She merely straightened her white dress, fixing me with a deep scowl over the blonde's shoulder, before turning sharply, her two _lemmings_ hot on her heels.

People groaned in annoyance with the lack of action, some even shouting '_bullshit_' and '_where's the cat fight?_' before they also turned to enjoy the party. I didn't realise till then that I had been holding my breath and quickly let it out, casting my eyes to the ground. It felt like I had just run a marathon, heart hammering hard against my chest.

"You okay?"

I glanced up and gasped at the blonde before me. She was pretty, beautiful even. There was a kindness about the smile she offered, but there was a slight harshness there too. She was a total badass.

"Yeah," I murmured. "Thank you." The adrenaline from our earlier encounter was beginning to fade and I smiled, releasing a calming breath.

"Hey no problem," the blonde grinned, no doubt guessing my thoughts. "Glad I could help...err..._What's your name_?"

I stifled a snort at the bluntness of her tone. "Emma Morgan."

"Well Emma," the blonde grinned and turned to make her leave. "I guess I'll leave you to it. Stay safe," she gave me one last smirk and nodded, turning back into the sea of people surrounding us.

"Hey wait!" I nearly tripped again. "What's _your_ name?"

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, but the smirk still lingered. "Wright," she said after a long, rather dramatic pause. "Andrea Wright."

* * *

"_Andrea?" _I breathed hesitantly.

We stared at each other in silence, neither wavering from our motionless stances. _No way. It couldn't be_.My mind blurred, trying to come to terms with the familiar blonde across from me. In some insane, _completely _incomprehensible twist of fate, the past–_in the form of my sassy yet loyal best-friend_–had quite literally stumbled into my life once more.

_Stuff like this just didn't happen._

It was _Andrea_. She was here, _smirking,_ of all things. Andrea Wright,my one true friend_._ Glee mixed with panic and revelation, sending my body into an overwhelming state that I struggled to contain. She was the same lean, blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Even her commanding presence, though slightly dishevelled beneath grime and blood, echoed in the strong stature of her shoulders; like an avenging angel ready to rid the world of all evil.

But something about her had changed. Whether it was the more defined muscles in her shoulders and arms, or the distant look in her eyes, I couldn't be sure. One thing was for certain. I had my friend back, a piece of my past, _a piece of me._

For ten long years we had been inseparable, Andrea's calm and confident attitude, paired with my more dependant and timid soul. It was a match made in heaven and no one could argue otherwise. We were constantly joined at the hip, spending more time together than with our own siblings. Charlie and Amy were still in high school at the time, whilst we declared our independence amidst College peers. And as time passed so too did we grow remaining in contact throughout our ten year friendship. She was my rock. The kind of person who you fought to protect and who you could trust would have your back no matter what.

Seeing her now, standing motionless across the way, brought every memory we'd shared to mind. She was like a sister to me, a sister I never had, who I spent every moment with. She was my person.

So many memories, so many birthdays, Christmases, thanks giving's, study sessions, late-night rants, pointless arguments, laughs, tears, it all came back at once, every single moment. And I was left breathless with the steady flow of emotions, close to tears.

Since the attack on the New Orleans camp, I had disregarded the need for company; my most recent of developments being a prime example. Somehow during my time alone, I had lost sight of what was important. Transforming into a heartless know-it-all that liked to think she could trust no one and therefore needed no one. But seeing Andrea, and actually having her here, I finally realised I was wrong.

I needed her now more than ever.

There hadn't been any words exchanged between us, not even from Daryl, who remained transfixed to the spot beside Andrea. I frowned, taking in her tensed demeanour and feeling a little torn at how best to go about our new position. Suddenly though, Andrea let out a shaky breath and crossed the room in three strides, pulling me into a fierce embrace as we both chuckled at the incomprehension of it all.

I fought to focus solely on Andrea, but couldn't deny the slight pain in my abdomen as my arms enveloped her taller posture. _Stupid wound, _I cursed_._ Mercifully Andrea didn't notice my strain. She wouldn't have let me hear the end of it otherwise.

We held each other close for a moment longer, a little desperately on my end, until I felt the blonde gently push me away. She gave me one of her rare Andy smiles, and I beamed back at her, tears welling.

"It's you," I breathed, delighting in the small smirk she offered. "I can't believe it's really you." My hand reached forward and clasped hers. They were slightly callous to the touch, but I didn't care. I had to make sure she was real. To make sure that this wasn't another one of the tricks my mind was playing on me. I'd had my fill of hallucinations to last me a lifetime.

Andrea nodded, squeezing my hands tightly before dropping them. "I can't believe that you're here," she raised both brows. "In _Georgia_."

"I've come a long way," my answering smirk surprised the woman no doubt, as her steel blue eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn't a typical Emma Morgan response and I suspected she did not see it coming.

"Ya know each other?" Daryl's gruff voice suddenly cut in and I turned to the man with a frown. He seemed at a loss, trying to process what had just happened. But I could barely fathom it myself.

Thankfully, Andrea was quick to recover. "College," she began, assuming a frivolous tone. But I knew that it was just Andrea being Andrea. She hated having to explain herself. It was nice to know that some things never change. "Emma and I have been friends for a very long time," she continued, but a rare smile played at the corner of her lips, almost as if she was also confirming the truth behind her statement.

I smirked knowingly at the woman, conjuring past memories of our robust twenties to mind, before fixing my gaze on Daryl, watching the exchange thoughtfully. "_College_?" He grumbled after a long pause. I nodded, glancing at the blonde and delighting in her scoff of indifference. She didn't care if he believed her or not_,_ though I suspected the arrow-man would find it difficult to distrust her information. They apparently seemed to know each other, which was interesting.

"What I'd like to know," the blonde crudely cut in before Daryl could question her further. "Is how the two of you know each other?"

_Shit._

I met Daryl's stoic gaze. He seemed to understand my hesitation, a troubled look glimmering behind his blue eyes. The gaze only reminded me of our earlier conversation, before Andrea had so bashfully announced her arrival.

_Guilt_.

It was there, transpiring between us and hidden beneath the many layers of harshness in the man's frown. _Why did he feel guilty? _

I frowned a little. A couple of days ago I would have gladly told Andrea what had happened, how he had shot me, sitting back as she no doubt went thermo-nuclear on him. She had done it for me in the past. Andrea had always stood up for me, I depended on her, like I did my brother and father.

But that wasn't _me_ anymore.

Staring at the arrow man, I frowned deeply trying to process my thoughts. Sure I could have ousted him and watched as the guilt sunk deeper into his inner turmoil. But he was already complicated enough as it was, I didn't need to _further_ his issues by placing blame where it wasn't deserved. At the end of the day Daryl had been protecting his group, any one of us standing in the room would have done the same thing. So I couldn't hold it against him anymore. As much as I tried, the hatred from the past two days didn't burn as brightly. I'd _seen_ him for whom he was. I'd witnessed firsthand the way he cared for his group, and the constant flow of emotions that were ever-present, even though he seemed like the type who would deny how much he truly cared. There was still a long way to go before I trusted the arrow-man; but I could safely say that I didn't blame him anymore, or the others for that matter. Strangely, I understood.

"He saved my life," the man's startled gasp made me snort inwardly and I turned from his imploring gaze to Andrea beside me once more. "There was a complication. I got hurt, and the others they helped me."

Andrea nodded along, missing the startled gasp from the arrow-man. "The others?" She whispered and glanced over at Daryl.

He was still gazing at me with a strange, somewhat distant look, and a long moment simmered between us before he met Andrea's frown stoically. She hadn't missed the exchange, _it was hard not to_, and I could tell that she burned to know what was behind it, but thankfully she remained silent.

"Went on a run with Maggie and Glenn," he grunted. "Got surrounded by geeks and _Emma_ here, helped us out..." He trailed off and I knew what was coming next.

"Almost got myself killed," I quickly cut in, meeting the man's perplexed frown. At my statement Andrea rolled her eyes and I offered a small smirk in reply. "Instead of leaving me behind, they took me back to their..._base_. The Doc fixed me up."

Andrea raised both brows. "The Doc?"

"Hershel," Daryl grunted, still eyeing me closely. Andrea smiled a little at this, no doubt recognizing the name.

"So the old man made it out huh?" She grinned. "Who else?"

Daryl hesitated once more, locking eyes with both of us before glancing away. I watched his movements with a thoughtful frown. _What was his problem? _

And then it hit me.

Of course he was wary to tell Andrea who had survived, _I_ was in the room after all, and was someone not to be trusted. The blonde picked up on the arrow-man's hesitation and opened her mouth to no doubt question him again, but surprisingly Daryl cleared his throat and fixed the woman with his standard frown. "Dale and T-Dog," he began. I recovered from my initial shock and smirked a little at the fact that there was a man named T-Dog,_ what an odd name. _"Carol, Sophia, Patricia, Lori and Carl" the man grumbled, and with a moment's pause, regarding Andrea closely, he sighed deeply. "And _Rick_."

A moment of silence passed before the woman nodded slowly, a rather sombre look crossing over her features at the mention of their leader. I watched her closely, noting how the blonde avoided our gazes.

Something wasn't right.

I frowned, glancing towards the arrow-man in the hopes that he could make sense of her sudden change in behaviour, but before I could even decipher his knowing gaze the woman sighed deeply and resumed her indifferent posture, as if nothing had happened. _Typical_.

"You mentioned a base?" She frowned. The question was directed at me, but it was Daryl who spoke up.

"Bout' two months after the farm was attacked, found a prison," he grunted, meeting my gaze for a moment, before turning back to look at Andrea's startled expression.

"A _prison_?" She frowned.

Daryl remained stoic. "Only foun' it a week ago. Been on the run since the farm fell, tryna avoid those God damn geeks. Rick and I were out huntin' when we came cross' it. Cleared most of it out, still a long way to go, but it's _safe_ for now," his final words hung in the air and I couldn't help but raise both brows at Daryl's emphasis on the safety of the prison. It explained everything, why their leader, Rick, had been so apprehensive of my arrival to the prison, why the others were afraid and almost cautious of anyone coming in or going out. The prison was their new _stronghold_. After months on the run, anything would be considered a threat to the safety of their base. Even a wounded girl.

I sighed. It seemed I had _indeed_ misjudged the leader.

Silence commenced, but the nervousness surrounding Andrea's unexpected arrival had simmered somewhat as we all gazed coolly at each other. I noticed then how tired the woman beside me looked, her clothes and hair tousled with grime. Opening my mouth to suggest the woman take rest I observed something glimmer behind her blue eyes and suddenly a rather harsh frown etched above her brow. She turned to me with eyes slightly narrowed, but there was no denying the confusion there.

"If everyone else is at this _prison_," she began. "Why are youboth here now?"

_Shit._

I swallowed, locking eyes with Daryl across from me, praying that he would offer some semblance of help, but he remained silent. _Figures_ _the man has nothing to say now_. Fighting back the curses that threatened to unleash, I cautiously glanced at the woman in front of me, her face unexpectedly calm as she waited for a reply.

_C'mon Emma, it isn't Daryl's fault. It's yours._

I'd made the decision to leave their group, not even giving them the opportunity to ask whether I wanted to stay or not. My arrogant remarks had wound me up in this position, and though I still remained true to my decision to leave, I was afraid the group and their leader would learn of my true reasons for not staying. Andrea _knew_ my brother. They had met on several occasions, as had I with most of her family. She would soon uncover my plans, as nothing had ever been sacred between us. The woman always had an uncanny sense of detecting whenever I lied to her.

_Of course I could always bend the truth a little. _

Just then, a loud crash suddenly echoed down the hall and as one, all three of us tensed, swiftly managing to grasp our weapons closer and turn in the same instance. I shared a look with the blonde beside me, noting the fire burning beneath her blue eyes. She yearned to know the answer to her earlier question, but I ignored her.

This was _so_ not the time.

"Could've come from the foyer," I suggested. Daryl was already shaking his head.

"Didn' see 'nything when I foun Andrea," he grunted and aimed his crossbow down the hall. Another noise drifted into the room.

Something was definitely in the building.

"Walkers?" Andrea mused to which Daryl and I both shrugged our shoulders. "Maybe some managed to get through that window I smashed in."

I scoffed at the obviousness of her statement, to which Andrea sent me a heavy glare. But I wasn't listening, instead moving to the nearest cupboard and retrieving from its drawers, a flashlight. "I'll check it out," my eyes briefly glanced over the two still forms lingering in the centre of the room.

Daryl moved to follow first, but Andrea, as always was quicker. "I'm coming with you," she stated firmly and pushed pass in her usual Andrea-Esque way. I smirked slightly at the familiarity of her actions.

"Just like old times," I joked, sparing a glance at the man behind me. Daryl however, did not return the simple gesture. Instead he gazed at me distantly, a mixture of emotions behind his guarded blue eyes. I was about to ask what his problem was, feeling a little suspicious under his hard frown, when Andrea suddenly called down the hall.

"You guys coming?"

Without another word Daryl and I clambered down the hall and met up with Andrea at the top of the stairway. She had her gun poised and ready for an attack, staring down the darkened corridor to her right with a harsh glare, eyes trained, searching for any sign of movement.

"We should split up," I suggested quickly. Both Daryl and Andrea seemed hesitant at first, but after explaining that we could cover more ground if two people searched the lower levels, as there would likely be more vantage points for corpses, and one person checked the barricades were secure on the upper levels, they sighed in agreement.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you," Andrea was already pacing down the stairwell, nodding to Daryl who would be checking the upper levels. He watched her with a thoughtful expression, possibly surprised to see a different side to the blonde before he shrugged the crossbow from his shoulders and silently moved up the stairwell to my left.

"C'mon Morgan I'm not getting any younger down here," Andrea called from below. I rolled my eyes at her audacity knowing that she probably didn't give a fuck if corpses heard her or not, and sighed. I took the stairs two at a time to catch up with the blonde ahead of me, ignoring her knowing smirk.

* * *

Twenty two year old, Maggie Greene stared across the room of her cell block, green eyes locked in a heated contest with the grey, concrete wall in front of her. It had been a few hours since Daryl Dixon had departed in the early morning, and still there was no sign of his return. The group of misfits–_her new, unsanctioned family_–had tried their best to return to some semblance of normality, but it had proved difficult, and now a wave of eeriness hung throughout the prison complex they called home.

The others didn't know what to make of the event that had unfolded only yesterday. Since their rather shambolic arrival, Maggie had been determined to see Emma Morgan through her injury, it was the least she could do since Emma had saved their lives, but the leader, Rick Grimes, did not share the same opinion.

The leader hadn't taken kindly to Emma's arrival, for obvious reasons, claiming she was a threat that needed to be taken care of–_even though the woman had saved most of his group's lives_. At first Rick pretended to understand, mostly for the benefit of Maggie and her father Hershel Greene, but there was no denying the fire in his eyes. He hated the situation, wanting nothing more than to eradicate the problem swiftly. It also didn't help that he was a very stubborn man and Emma's rather feisty nature didn't go well with him.

Maggie had ventured to remain neutral throughout the process as petulant arguments were getting her nowhere, but she struggled to keep her mouth closed. It was a crazy notion letting Emma go in the first instance, especially considering the woman's selfless actions. Sure the woman was a threat; Emma knew of their base, she was someone they hadn't met before. But did that mean she had to be thrown out onto the streets like some animal? Although Emma Morgan had wanted to leave, Maggie still felt the woman should have been allowed to stay until her wound had healed. Though as always, Rick thought otherwise.

Sighing heavily, Maggie glanced out into the rest of the cell block, marvelling at the lowering sun that shone brilliantly through barred windows.

Recalling her first account with the fiery spirit that was Emma Morgan, Maggie smiled, moving to stand at the doorway of her cell. She remembered thinking how peculiar the girl seemed. Although the bravado act may have fooled some, it didn't fool Maggie. She knew from the moment she laid eyes on the slight figure, the person she really was. There was no malice beneath Emma's facade, nor was there an arrogance or confidence at that. Emma Morgan was but an unsettled soul, in search of something.

Maggie smiled briefly at the thought of the woman aiding her wound, until an image of Rick Grimes came to mind, swiftly removing the smile from her lips. A frown appeared.

It wasn't Emma's fault that she had stumbled into their lives at the wrong time.

Since a herd of walkers had attacked her family farm, Maggie and the others had been on the run. For months they had travelled deep into the woods, desperate to be rid of the herd that still followed them. It was hard, but together the group had managed to survive. Maggie even had to acknowledge that Rick was the main reason behind the group lasting so long. He had endured all the hatred and loathing from them, but at the end of it all, his main goal was to keep the group alive, and Maggie couldn't argue with that.

When they had found the prison however, things had changed.

Rick was heartless, never wavering in his firm stance. Maggie and the others hadn't expected the leader to continue his cold nature. But the leader had, and still did to this day. There was no room for error. Rick made the rules and people followed. If you had a problem with it, then you would find yourself out on the road just like Emma had. Rick would let nothing jeopardize his safe haven.

_The prison is our home_, he would say and sometimes it seemed more to convince himself than it did the others. Maggie still couldn't figure out why or how the leader had changed. Kicking newcomers out, even though the girl had helped his group, it just wasn't like him.

When Maggie had first met Rick Grimes, he had been polite and very forthcoming with her father. He adored his wife and kid, even taking to becoming close friends with the others, Daryl included. There was light in the leader, he was hopeful and optimistic, always loyal to his family and dependable when they needed him most.

Of course, Maggie did have _one_ idea behind Rick's sudden coldness.

The night seemed long ago now, nothing but a distant memory that Maggie had almost forgotten. But it was there in an instant, clouding her mind. They were on the farm; Maggie had just finished cleaning up for dinner and would soon meet Glenn out by the RV for watch duties. Even though her father forbade her involvement with the others, Maggie still ignored his warnings and strutted purposely towards the RV. She was walking from the back of the house, not wanting the others to know where she was going, though it didn't matter as most would be in bed. It was whilst preparing to dart past the front of the white farmhouse that she heard their voices.

"Andrea, please," a familiar drawl whispered into the night. Maggie dared a glance around the side of the building she was pressed up against and on the front balcony spied a distraught Rick Grimes and blonde-haired Andrea. The pair seemed to be locked in an intense argument, the latter frowning deeply at her leader. Maggie furrowed her brows as she stared across at them.

"Stop!" Andrea hissed lowly, her eyes darting to the front door of the house before meeting Rick's heavy gaze once more. They stared at each other with an unfathomable amount of emotions flowing between them. It was a very powerful moment; one Maggie couldn't help but raise both her brows in question at. Something wasn't right here.

She noticed then that Rick held onto Andrea's wrist though she wasn't sure if it was hurting Andrea or not. Apparently it wasn't as the woman sighed and stared down at his hand with glimmering blue eyes. She gently pried his fingers away after a long pause and stepped away; giving them both some much needed distance. "Please," she began, glancing anywhere but at the man across from her. It was unlike Andrea to be shy, and Maggie leaned in listening closely to each word. "Just let me go."

Rick eyed her for a moment. Maggie couldn't see his face properly from her hiding place, but she could imagine the emotions as they only mirrored in Andrea's eyes. The blonde-haired woman almost seemed, broken.

Another moment passed between them and when Rick said nothing further, Andrea turned on her heel and marched out across the front lawn, her steps not as confident as Maggie had known them to be. When she was only a mere distance away, Rick suddenly moved forward though didn't chase after the woman. It allowed Maggie to see his face clearly, as the full moon shone down on him. He was frowning, though his eyes seemed distant, gazing across at the woman's departure. There was a slight tightness in his jaw, almost as if he wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come. It was his stance however, that surprised Maggie most of all. He was still his tall, lean self, with strong arms and a narrow waist. But his shoulders were slumped forward in defeat, hands at his waist and gazing across almost in longing.

_"No!"_

A commotion from below startled Maggie as the final image of her leader faded into oblivion. The memory had been with the Greene girl, tucked deep into the far reaches of her mind. She had tried to observe the two together after the seemingly innocent affair, but since that night nothing further transpired between the pair. A few stolen glances were shared, but they were innocent, nothing to be suspicious of. Though Maggie couldn't deny the forlorn wrath of her leader when he discovered Andrea had died. No one else seemed to notice, but Maggie did. She could see the longing in his eyes like that night so long ago. He was almost broken, defeated, and lost.

"We should go now." _Speaking of the devil, _Maggie sighed_._

Glancing down at the lower level of the cell block, the Greene girl found the source of the commotion in the form of Rick's wife Lori, the leader, Dale Harvey and her father Hershel Greene. It didn't appear to be heated, but Maggie was drawn to the small gathering, striding across the upper level of the cell block and taking the stairs two at a time.

"–I agree with Rick. Something might have happened to him–"

"–We don't know that Dale."

Rick groaned, staring at his wife in disbelief. "Of course something has happened. Daryl wouldn't have taken this long. It's almost nightfall," he snapped. Lori Grimes paused before answering. It was still a wonder she had maintained her cool this long, but then again Maggie knew the woman was stronger than she appeared; even if the others didn't see it.

"That's why we shouldn't be so hasty to make a decision Rick," she began, eyeing the others closely. "It's going to be night soon, we should wait for morning."

This time it was Hershel who shook his head, though Maggie didn't give the old man time to answer, swiftly moving forward to announce her presence. "It may be too late by then," she urged. Lori flicked her hard stare towards the girl and it softened slightly, but only slightly. The others spared her a brief nod. "If we don't leave now, Daryl and Emma will be in more danger overnight. Something might have happened to them –"

"–I don't care about the other one." Rick growled. The others noted the familiar harshness of his tone and Lori inadvertently stepped back, though Maggie guessed it was more out of habit than fear. Everyone knew not to mess with the leader when he was in one of his moods.

"Rick," his wife approached hesitantly. Her tone was gentle almost as if she were soothing a wild animal. "Please, wait until the morning. It's not safe out there now. Daryl can take care of himself, everyone knows it."

Hershel was the one who stepped forward this time, before the leader had time to argue. Maggie noted the scarlet fists at his side, but remained silent. "I understand what you're saying dear, and it is true," he drawled, his wise words calming Maggie like they always did. "But Rick is also right. That is one of our people out there, and we do not just abandon one of our own."

Maggie could see the hesitation in Lori's eyes and understood why the woman did not want her husband in danger. But they couldn't stand around and do nothing. They had to do something. The leader nodded in agreement with Hershel's words, fixing his wife with an impassive almost careless gaze, before he stomped off into the direction of the outer cell block. Maggie sprang to life, ignoring her father's imploring gaze to catch up with the leader.

"What's the plan?" She asked timidly. Rick continued pacing from the room, it was a struggle to keep up with his long strides but the Greene girl managed to hold her own. The leader glanced at her momentarily before opening the door at the end of the hallway. The familiar harshness swept over his otherwise handsome face like it always did whenever he regarded someone in the group, but it softened slightly as he studied the girl.

"Wake Glenn and T-Dog," he grumbled after a long, thoughtful pause. "Tell them to meet me outside in five minutes." With that the leader turned sharply on his heel, though not before offering a heavy glare. From the single look Maggie knew what would happen. The men would search for Daryl at any cost and if he was alive, they would bring him back. But if he was dead, Emma Morgan would be too.

Maggie shuddered slightly, rooted to the floor as the door swung wide and late afternoon sun warmed her bare shoulders. She folded her slim arms across her chest, trying hard not to picture Rick's vicious scowl as the leader paced across the prison yard.

"_Please be alive_," she whispered and the door closed against her.

* * *

We were silent as we moved through the building.

Andrea took the lead, her gun in hand and stance tensed in anticipation. I followed after her, my own weapon ready to strike at a moment's notice. The blonde had frowned at my weapon of choice, but said nothing further. As we cautiously made our way through the foyer, I took the time to study the woman in front of me.

Andrea _had_ changed.

Though her defiant nature was almost unwavering, her body had developed into a somewhat fitter, more toned stature. She was thin of course, supermodel-thin some might say, but the arc and curve of her new body could be seen beneath the stained clothing she wore. She wasn't the same party-goer I was used to. _This_ was a warrior before me, a fighter.

Andrea led the way to the back part of the office building. We passed two dead corpses in the hall and I tensed for a moment, but the blonde reassured me that they were the two corpses she had been trying to outrun and had followed her into the building. She thought she had lost them, but they got the jump on her. It explained the gunshots Daryl and I had heard earlier. With a sharp nod we continued.

Most of the building had been cleared when first arriving in the town three weeks ago, but I still had yet to secure the lower level. At the very end of the hall Andrea rounded the corner, turning to me with a hard stare. This was it. I handed the woman my torchlight, as I would be going in first and would need her to shine the light inside. Nothing was said, but we both knew I would be better to take down a corpse if the need arose. Though I didn't doubt Andrea's gun skills, my axe was quieter and we didn't need to alert any nearby corpses of our location. The blonde's earlier arrival had already taken care of that, I rolled my eyes at the thought, but couldn't help a small smirk. It was _so_ Andrea. With a small nod, the blonde silently counted to three before yanking the door wide and crouching low so that I could move pass.

It was pitch-black inside, darker than that of the halls beyond. My eyes took a moment to adjust, but once they did, it was easy to take in the furnishings of a small lunch room. In another life it was perhaps a staff room for all the office workers, but I couldn't be sure. Suddenly, the smell of rotten flesh drifted to me, and I tensed as a bloodied hand lurched forward. Two corpses staggered toward me. It was hard to see the outline of their bodies in such dim lighting, but there was enough to see a target. Whirling my axe once around my head, in order to gain enough force, the metal wedge plunged into the side of the first corpse. Blood splattered across the room, but I didn't pause, kicking the body away and swiftly yanking the axe out in one move. My adrenaline was high as the second corpse approached. It hungrily grabbed for my shoulder, but I managed to jump backwards knocking its head with the wooden edge of my weapon. The body fell to the ground and I immediately moved forward, bringing my axe down hard. Metal clashed with flesh and the corpse struggled no more.

_All in a day's work,_ I grinned using my foot to press against the corpse's chest and heave my weapon free. It was covered in fresh blood and I repressed a groan, not looking forward to cleaning it later on. Absently I felt the familiar burning sensation unfold across my abdomen, but I was thankful that it brought no further pain. It was the last thing I needed to worry about now.

Glancing around the room no other corpses approached and I calmly let out a deep breath. In the corner of the room shattered glass scattered across the floor, caught my attention. One of the main windows had been bashed in which I presumed was the one Andrea had been referring to. I sighed, resting my axe against a nearby table and taking in the severity of the damage. It was low enough to the ground that other corpses could get through; it was certainly possible for my most recent kills to get in, which was a problem. I rolled my eyes seeing no other option but to barricade the door. Hopefully a herd didn't come by.

"We need to barricade the door," I said, turning on my heel striding back into the hallway. It was her stare that made me pause. The blonde was frowning though I could see the complete surprise. "What?" I self-consciously covered a hand over my torso. Andrea said nothing, merely shook her head once before trailing out of the room.

That was strange.

Wordlessly I followed, retrieving my axe from the tableside, still at a loss over Andrea's strange conduct. Together we barricaded the door with a solid-looking workbench, hoping it would suffice before cautiously making our way into the foyer. As we approached I turned to suggest helping Daryl on the upper levels, but as ever, Andrea was quick to intervene.

"Are you going to answer my earlier question?" She narrowed her eyes and I couldn't help but grunt as I knew it was coming. We lingered in the foyer, moonlight glistening through the glass doors beyond. It would have made for a beautiful night had our current predicament not deterred it.

I stared down at my hands holding my bloodied axe, wishing I were somewhere else, anywhere but here in this moment. Of course I knew Andrea wouldn't rest until she had her answers, especially now that she knew something was amiss.

"You have to promise you won't say anything," I mumbled, my voice was a little harsher than intended. After a brief pause Andrea nodded slowly in understanding. I noted that her movements were wary as she eyed me, no doubt puzzled by the extreme difference in personality. The Emma Morgan she had once known would never have spoken in such a manner, it was clear that she was surprised, others wouldn't have noticed, but I did. Sighing deeply, I swallowed back my fear and fixed the woman with a firm gaze. "I'm searching for my brother."

Andrea gasped, her eyes narrowing as she tried desperately to order her thoughts. "_Charlie_?" She whispered, to which I nodded once. The woman frowned again and stowed her weapon. "I don't understand," she shook her head.

I shrugged, stepping away from the intensity of her stare. "Nothing to understand. I'm looking for Charlie and that's that."

Andrea frowned. "How long?"

I paused eyeing her carefully. Over the past eight months I had told no one of my plans to search for Charlie. They had all just assumed that I preferred being alone, and I had never bothered trying to correct them. It was for my safety after all.

_But did that mean that I could trust Andrea now? _

She was someone I was supposed to trust, _wasn't she?_ The blonde hadn't done anything to betray it otherwise. We had known each other for over ten years. My best-fried, she was the one person besides my family that I knew would do everything in their power to protect me. No matter what happened.

My eyes narrowed and I let out a small, calming breath. "A few months," I replied and Andrea nodded slowly, her hands at her slim hips whilst she contemplated in silence. After a long pause she sighed dramatically shaking her head in exasperation.

"I still don't get why you're here." At my silence the woman continued with her blue eyes narrowed in thought. "Why are you in Georgia? I mean don't get me wrong I'm glad that we found each other, but that still doesn't change the fact that New Orleans is over four hundred miles away; even a crazy person wouldn't considering doing it."

_Silence. _

I looked down at my hands knotted in scarlet fists, trying to summon the courage to answer Andrea truthfully. With a deep sigh I met her stern gaze and cleared my throat. "Savannah," the words were out before there was time to reconsider. Andrea frowned at me, not quite understanding my resolve at first, until a sudden glint flashed beneath her blue eyes.

"The lake house?" She stammered.

My lips lifted into a ghost of a smile, but I could tell that the act did not seem convincing in the slightest. "Pa always said that if anything were to happen, Savannah would be our heading."

The blonde only stared back for a moment before answering. "So you've spent the past few months travelling from New Orleans to Georgia?" I nodded. "And have you found any sight of him."

"Wouldn't be here if I had," the smirk that graced my lips wasn't as full as I had wanted. I wished for the conversation to end, for Andrea to stop badgering me, for everything to return to how it was before all this bullshit unfolded, but of course that was only a distant dream.

"You were separated?" She asked curiously, her tone burning with need to know all that she could. They didn't call her Andrea Wright for nothing.

I nodded once. "We were set up in the woods outside of New Orleans, with Pa. There were others, almost thirty of us, living, surviving. We'd done alright for ourselves, Pa and Charlie had even set up a few systems between some of the men and women. It almost felt like nothing was out of the ordinary." I paused, recalling images of the New Orleans campsite. "One day we were attacked by corpses or _walkers_ as you call them." Andrea nodded and with a deep breath I continued. "Almost everyone died that night. _Dad_ included."

The blonde gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth, her eyes shining with tears. I'd almost forgotten that Andrea knew the old man. Like with Charlie, she had met them on several occasions, and I almost regretted the flippant retelling of my story, but ignored it. Andrea would understand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a long pause and her hand suddenly reached forward to grasp my own. We stood in comfortable silence for a while, steel-blue locked with dark brown. It was the most comfort I'd received in a long time and I welcomed the feel of her warm, callous hands. "I lost Amy too," she suddenly whispered. My brows rose in disbelief and I shook my head, squeezing the woman's hand a little tighter. Andrea merely shrugged her shoulders. "We were attacked by walkers at our camp in Atlanta," she replied sadly and with an unsteady breath, continued. "No one could have known what was about to happen. They had us cornered. Guns fired everywhere, and it was so dark. I almost didn't make it out myself." She paused, shuffling in her stance. "When everything finally settled, I called out for her, but she didn't reply." Another pause. "_And then I saw her_. My baby sister. She...She was so young and beautiful. She didn't deserve what happened to her."

The woman wavered slightly, a distant look in her eye as she no doubt thought over her sister's horrible death. Her retelling of the story hit a little too close to home and I struggled slightly to cover up my pain with indifference.

"I'm sorry Andy." The blonde only nodded a ghost of a smile on her lips.

We stared at each other for a moment longer before she pulled her hand from mine and smirked slightly. "Guess a lot's changed," she tried to appear indifferent, but I could sense the sadness there, sadness I knew all too well."You have."

My brows rose at this, and a small smile appeared at the corners of my lips. "Why do you say that?"

Andrea hummed thoughtfully for a moment before responding. "You seem _different_," she resolved. "You're actually a bit of a bitch if you ask me."

I scoffed at her _bold_ statement and chuckled slightly at it too. Only Andrea could insult someone and feel apathetic about it at the same time. Stating the truth was what she had called it on numerous occasions. "And why's that?"

"Just a huge contrast from the Emma Morgan that I used to know," she said with a shrug. "_That_ Emma wouldn't have been so hesitant to tell me what she was up to. Also would have been too scared to take on those walkers."

I shrugged my shoulders at the easy change in conversation. "Guess I could say the same about you."

"Oh yeah, and what would you say?" Andrea folded her arms across her chest in a mocking fashion; no doubt trying to reciprocate the fact that _she_ was the one and only 'bitch' around here. I smirked, preparing a sarcastic reply when a thought suddenly occurred to me.

"What's up with you and _Rick Grimes_?"

Her eyes widened slightly, but it was quickly covered up. "I don't know what you mean," she replied unconvincingly but it was too late. I'd already noticed her hesitation and I moved forward with a smug grin plastered to my face.

"Oh I think you _do _know."

The blonde huffed, narrowing her eyes at my claim. She looked away briefly, her cheeks burning red. There was something she was hiding; it was evident in her agitated state, similar to how she had acted earlier. There was a long pause before she abruptly turned back to me, steel eyes piercing as they wrinkled with a knowing smirk.

"What about you and Dixon, huh? What's going on there?"

I frowned, not quite understanding who she was referring to until after a moment I put two together and scowled deeply at the woman. "_Daryl_?" I blanched, a little too loudly, defensive some might say. Andrea's eyes narrowed in amusement. "Nothing's going on between me and him." I scoffed at her crude insinuation. The blonde stepped forward.

"Oh I think you _do_ know," she teased with my own words and for some strange reason her mocking tone pissed me off. I stepped away feeling the familiar confidence I had come to know and love in the past few months, course through my tiny frame and I revelled in the fire it brought.

_Shit, here comes bitchy Morgan_.

"You mean besides the fact that he shot me," I joked, not thinking twice about my answer.

"He did _what_?" Andrea frowned, her hands moving to her hips, pinning me to the spot with her heavy glare. _Fuck_, _what did I just do? _

No words would come, nothing, not even the sound of my haggard breaths could end the silence. Andrea studied me closely, her eyes raking over my body briefly before they paused at my abdomen, taking in the large pool of dried blood at my side, something she possibly dismissed before as nothing more than walker blood; it certainly couldn't have been my own.

"He shot you?" She gasped.

"Andy it was nothing," I was quick to reply, but I knew it wouldn't work. The blonde was already shaking her head furiously. Her mind was working overtime now, no doubt piecing together all the half-answers I had given her.

"So you get shot," she growled brusquely, ignoring my attempts to reassure her that all was right. But of course _this_ was the Andrea Wright I was dealing with, the short-tempered blonde who had once punched a guy in the face for grabbing her ass. "The others take you back to the prison, fix you up and send you on your way. It just doesn't make sense." She frowned and I could only shrug at her still wary of the woman's growing frustration. All I wanted was for the conversation to drop, now.

"I wanted to leave," my voice struggled to maintain composure. "I had to find Charlie–"

"–But why didn't you take their offer to stay?" The blonde sighed, exasperated by the sounds of it. She fixed me with her signature no nonsense scowl, waiting expectantly for my answer. When I said nothing, the woman let out a huff moving forward to question me further. She was almost in front of me when a sudden glint flashed beneath her blue eyes. _Understanding_. Her entire demeanour slumped as she no doubt pieced together my broken information, paired with Daryl's odd behaviour. I watched it slowly set in, the _real _reason we were here now. Andrea gasped. "There was no offer," she whispered, not a question but a fact. I studied the woman closely, trying to determine her mood, but it was impossible, so many emotions gazed back at me. Anger, disbelief, outrage, sadness, they were all mixed into one lean, blonde stature.

This wasn't how I saw our reunion going.

"Andy–"

"–I just don't understand why Rick would have done that," she cut me off, blue eyes piercing. I shrugged again, not really knowing what to say. It was true Rick had been a little harsh, especially considering I saved Maggie, Glenn and Daryl. But I understood now. The arrow man had made it somewhat clear in his detailing of events that had led up to the group finding the prison. It was for their protection. All the leader did was for their protection and safety. I was a threat and he handled it. Why couldn't Andrea see that?

"He didn't know me Andrea," I tried for an easy smirk, but the blonde sure knew how to put a downer on things. "None of them did. I was a threat to their base."

She fixed me with a harsh frown, anger brewing. "Emma that's complete bullshit and you know it." Her tone was crisp, sharp and to the point. If I hadn't been paying attention I would have missed the obvious hurt beneath the blunt dismissal. Andrea fumed, but I doubted it had anything to do with the fact that I was turned out of the prison. It was more to do with the fact that a certain somebody had done it. "He should have offered to let you join their group. Rick should have..." She trailed off, looking out into the distance. Nothing was said for a long moment as the blonde glared at the tiled floor. There was something that had definitely happened between Rick and Andrea, something the woman was keeping secret. I would have to find out from her some other time, but for now she needed to hear the truth.

"I wanted to leave," my voice was gruff, startling the woman across from me. Andrea glanced up but I didn't let her question the statement. It was my turn to speak. "Even if Rick and the others had offered me a place with their group I would have turned them away. I need to search for Charlie. It's the only that's keeping me going. And yeah we can sit around pointing fingers all day, talking about how the world ain't fair and what Rick and the others did was bullshit, but I had already made up my mind. I wanted to leave Andy. Nothing else matters. I need to find my brother. I need to find Charlie."

_Silence._

Andrea hadn't moved an inch; she only stared as I frivolously finished my rant. There was a slight eeriness to the way she gazed across at me, almost as if she were in her own world at present, lost deep in the far reaches of some distant thought. When her bright blue eyes suddenly focused once more, they narrowed and I gasped at the intensity there.

"I'm coming with you," she murmured.

Movement from the upper level caught my attention, breaking the powerful emotions gazing back at me. I didn't even have time to process what Andrea was saying before the outline of a familiar figure came into view.

"Y'all okay?" The arrow man grumbled. His crossbow hung off his shoulder, standard frown in place. I stammered as I gazed up at the man, still at a loss over Andrea's words.

_I'm coming with you. _

The blonde straightened and assumed her usual, cool self, like nothing had transpired between us. "We found a couple of walkers. Emma took care of them. We're okay though," she called over her shoulder with a fake smile. Daryl grunted a little, but didn't comment further, chewing his thumbnail in deliberation as he paced down the hall.

_I'm coming with you._

Andrea was already climbing the stairwell following after Daryl wordlessly. She was almost at the top when she suddenly paused and glanced over her shoulder once more.

_I'm coming with you._

The same intensity gazed back at me, though a small smile graced her lips. She seemed to be trying to say something with the single look and after a moment I knew. There was no doubt about it. The blonde meant every word. _I'm coming with you_. Andrea was coming with me, whether I liked the idea or not. My friend, my best-friend was coming with me to Savannah. There would be no argument; she had already made up her mind. I could see it clearly in her eyes.

_I'm coming with you. _

The blonde disappeared from view without another backwards glance, though the image of her bright blue eyes piercing me with their earnestness still lingered within the small space of the foyer. Taking a moment to recover from my dazed state, I wordlessly followed the woman, axe in hand and mind in shambles.

Well shit.

* * *

**A/N: Argh, hey guys...is anyone even there? Ugh I'm sorry about the extremely late post. I probably should have mentioned that I was going away for the holidays. SORRY! I've posted an extremely long chapter to make up for it...So don't be mad!...On with the story.**

**Okay so we last left Emma narrowly escaping the herd of corpses with Daryl and they traveled back to the town she had been holed up in for three weeks. Suddenly they hear a noise and BAM! it's Andrea! Oh yeah! Sorry she's one of my fav's (well used to be) I liked her in the second season of the walking dead, but I hated where her character was going in the third season. I think I took bits of her character from the show and parts it from the comic version, because she's apparently more capable and badass! Hoepfully you guys liked her.**

**By the way yes, Andrea and Emma knew each other in college, and have known each other for ten years. I think it's important for Emma to have someone she can trust right now. To kind of re-introduce her to the world, because Emma has gone a bit crazy in the past eight months. If it wasn't obvious. A lot of dynamics will come into play over the next few chapters. Even i'm excited to see how the pair go. Do you guy's like them? Fingers crossed.**

**Yes I have introduced Maggie into the fold. I felt like the story needed another person's point of view. I think it's pretty rubbish, but hopefully I get better at portraying her. The little Andrea and Rick thing was actually something I wanted to play on and yeah it's a bit out there because he's supposed to be the devoted father and all that, but I was sick of the whole Lori cheating with Shane that I kind of wanted to make Rick out as the cheating husband and give his character a bit more darkness. I don't know. Just a crazy thought. **

**Anyway that's it for now. BIG things happening in the next chapter. Emma isn't completely happy with Andrea coming with her, so we'll get to see a confrontation between certain characters. What will happen when Rick and the others go searching for Daryl? **

**Stay cool all you FF readers. **


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